


A Tale of Love and Crime

by Just_A_Little_Kail



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Alfie Solomons, F/M, Falling In Love, Humor, Light Dom/sub, Missions, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Smut, social classes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:34:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24510877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_A_Little_Kail/pseuds/Just_A_Little_Kail
Summary: Alfie’s underground liquor competition is becoming a nuisance. So when he notices a pretty thief frequenting his bakery and stealing his merchandise, he decides to confront her with an “offer” to become his associate.Evelyn is a survivor. She’s grown up on the streets, stealing what she needs (and sometimes what she doesn’t). She’s got more grit than an ashtray in a bar, and she’s always in for a thrill.Evelyn agrees to help Alfie steal what he needs from his adversaries, but will she steal his heart as well?Welcome to a story filled with snark, smut and adventure.This is a prequel to my one-shot, “Knight in Shining Lingerie”
Relationships: Alfie Solomons/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 109





	1. Always the Sideshow

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my new series! I had so much fun writing my one-shot “Knight in Shining Lingerie” that I decided to dedicate a whole story to Evelyn and Alfie. This is a prequel, so you by no means have to read the one-shot (but it’s pretty juicy so I recommend).

The circus of society was not a welcoming place, especially for the poverty-stricken side-shows that almost never made it to the main stage. 

Evelyn had been jumping through hoops for as long as she could remember. England’s elite rarely gave her a second glance, especially in the grungy town of Camden. Also known as the ugly step sister to London. 

Soft rain pattered the windows of the Main Street storefronts. People raced from shop to shop trying to escape the growing mist around them. Car tires sloshed through the puddles and down the paved paths to reach their destinations. This city had been her home for her entire life. She’d had the luxury of traveling to London every few years, but Camden was in her blood. 

It was all she knew, and frankly, she had no desire to know anywhere else. 

Evelyn trailed the shadows between alleyways. To an onlooker, she must have seemed like a child playing hide and seek with a parent. In reality, though, she was covertly following the doctor in front of her, waiting for him to leave his bag unattended for just a few moments so she could snatch it up and take its contents for herself. 

She was a tiny one, no taller than a prepubescent boy but with the figure of a woman. Graceful and dainty in her movements, Evelyn’s soft exterior was hidden beneath a tough image. She had a sharp tongue that could cut through steel, destroying grown men and knocking socialites off their seemingly undefeated pedestals. Her brown eyes looked black in the foggy air of Camden, locking onto targets without so much as a blink. 

She’d been following the doctor for a few hours now. In his leather case he had enough medicine to sell off and buy food for at least a few months, if she could score all of it. 

The next meal was always the biggest priority, especially when it came to the city’s population of the unwanted and invisible. Aside from the religious institutions that pretended to care about the poor, everyone tended to ignore them. The poor’s suffering was consequential to their own wealth. 

The mansions and gorgeous townhomes that housed the rich only served as a reminder that there are indeed different social classes, all with their own necessities. For Evelyn, her worldly desires were considered as basic as food and water for high society. 

Evelyn squatted in a dilapidated house on the outskirts of the city with a few others. It had been deemed unsafe to live in, so as soon as the area was vacant, they swooped in to grab it. 

There were a few of them, but they all lived by one simple rule: every man for himself. Putting others first was a privilege reserved for the wealthy. Her entire life was a race to a finish line that may not even exist. That idea terrified her, but not enough to make her stop.

Being poor was no longer a weakness for Evie; it was how she survived. 

Evelyn made a living as a thief. It was a simple life, filled with just enough happiness to get past the omniscient grief of her economic status. Female society-goers looked down upon her like tar beneath an overused tire. Men wanted to fuck her and then toss her back into the filth like a used cigarette. 

Even now, as Evelyn slid through the shadows after the doctor, men would stare a second longer than socially acceptable. She wasn’t a woman, she was a conquest. These “gentlemen” got off on the chase. Being with her would be like being somewhere they didn’t belong. It was a thrill as much as an escapade.

The doctor took a turn down a residential street, the crowds decreasing dramatically. She noticed a hat lying unaccompanied on top of a car at the corner. She grabbed it and placed it on her dark hair, covering her face and shading over her features. Her thin coat did little to block the sweeping wind from her skin, only acting as a thin barrier so she wouldn't freeze. Her fingers had gone numb in the ratty mittens she found years ago in the gutter. 

She followed the doctor, always a few steps behind to not draw attention to herself. She was good at that, being inconspicuous. She could melt into a crowd faster than wax to a flame. 

The man looked at a small piece of paper, up at a building and down again. All the homes were connected, and looked like cookie cutters of one another. It wasn’t the most expensive neighborhood, but Evelyn knew that, compared to her own dwellings, it looked posh. The red brick stood out from the otherwise neutral street. Minimal foliage suggested that the families who lived here were factory workers or shipyard employees just trying to make ends meet. 

The doctor stopped halfway down the road. It looked like he had found the home of his next patient. Evelyn had just enough time to come up with a believable plan. He knocked on a door, opening to reveal a middle aged woman with an irritated expression. She motioned him in with a rushed wave of the hand, closing the door behind them. 

Evelyn snuck around to the side of the building, peeking through the window. The doctor was treating a elderly woman, most likely the grandmother of the house. Guilt sidled into Evelyn’s mind thinking that she would be taking from people who need it.

Every man for himself, she thought. 

Forty minutes later, the door opened and the doctor walked back onto the stoop, shaking the woman’s hand before leaving. It was time for Evelyn to make her move. As he began walking back to the mainstreet, Evelyn popped out from behind the home. She purposely tripped, knocking into the doctor and sending his bag flying to the ground. 

The clasp that held the fine leather together snapped and sent medical instruments flying. She could hear the sound of the glass medical containers clinking together, hopefully not breaking before she had a chance to steal them. 

“Oh, goodness!” she said in her most femenine, societal voice. “I’m terribly sorry. My grandmother needs your help again. She’s having some sort of seizing episode!” Evelyn put her hand on her chest to feign calming her exaggerated breaths. “You must come back and help her, hurry!” 

The doctor looked flustered, glancing to the home before looking back at his items that laid strewn on the ground. His stethoscope was in the middle of the road, a blood pressure cuff a few feet away as well. He hesitated, clearly divided on what was a priority. 

“I’ll collect your things and bring them in, please go help her!” He hesitated again. “Hurry!” Evelyn spat at him. He jumped in place and quickly turned on his heels, headed back to the house. 

Evelyn gathered his items and began placing them back into the expensive bag, which would be worth a pretty penny even without the medicine in it. The doctor made it to the door and looked at Evelyn, who began walking in his direction. When he saw all his belongings were safe, he disappeared behind the door. 

“Idiot,” Evelyn mumbled. As soon as the door was shut, she bolted in the opposite direction. By the time the doctor realized what happened she would be long gone, swallowed by the shadows of Camden. 

She made it to the edge of the city, slightly out of breath from running. Her coat had fallen beneath her elbows as she ran. The cold bit at her shoulders like mosquitos on a lake. She had removed her jacket to drape over the expensive bag, protecting it from accusing or cunning eyes. 

Her home looked abandoned, which for the most part, it was. Planks of wood covered a majority of the windows that had been smashed by people and inclimate weather. It was technically two stories, but she and a few others only lived on the first floor for fear that the rotted wood floors would collapse at the tiniest of movements. The door was welded shut, her attempt at keeping others out. It worked well enough. If that plan didn’t work, a wooden pistol sure did the trick. 

She walked past a sign labeled CONDEMNED and around to the back, over the errant pieces of garbage and collapsed steel that littered the ground like children’s toys in a nursery. These windows, too, were paneled shut. Eveyln jumped atop a partially deflated tire leaning against the weathered walls. She leaned towards a widow and removed the wood blocking her passage. It was the only way inside the home. 

She took the handle of the bag and gently flung it inside, followed by her legs. Her short height allowed for easy entry over the window sill and through the frame. Evelyn had done this so many times, she could manage it even with a few shots of rum in her system. 

Moses sat at the makeshift kitchen table, uncrumpling bank notes from his pocket. “That was quick,” he noted without moving his eyes from the money. 

“What can I say, I’m just that good,” she replied, dumping the medial bag on the neatly folded papers and sending them flying to the floor. 

“Bloody hell, I was counting that!” He leant down to pick up the money, but Evelyn stood arrogantly in place. 

“Fuck the small notes, I caught a big one today.” Moses and Evelyn had friends for years. They met on the streets, built a friendship on the streets and predicted that’s how they would spend the rest of their lives. He was a scraggly, ginger-haired boy when she found him. In perspective, she probably didn’t look much better. He was tall, and years of working in the factories had given him a thick build that made him a formidable opponent on the streets of Camden. 

To Evelyn, though, he was just Moses. Her friend. Her makeshift brother. She wouldn’t have survived without him. 

“What’d you do?” he asked, skepticism written plainly across his features. “Can they track it back to us?” 

“I took it miles from here. Plus the guy was so rich he can afford a new one.” Evelyn dumped the contents of the bag on the table. Medical instruments dropped out, along with tiny bottles of morphine. 

“What do we do with it?”

“Sell it.” 

“To who?” 

Evelyn rolled her eyes. “I don’t give a fuck who, as long as we make enough money to feed ourselves for at least month.” Moses nodded his head, thinking. “Well?” she asked. 

He looked up at her, before breaking into a kind smile. “Good work. I know of some guys at the factory who would go for it.” Evelyn smiled, subconsciously seeking validation yet never admitting that she needed it in the first place. 

Evelyn walked into the living room, now torn apart from rotting wood and termites. The blanket and pillow on the floor laid untouched. 

“Did she come back yet?” Evelyn had opened her doors for a few people passing through. Her heart was hardened, but she wasn’t cruel. If someone needed a place to stay, she would always offer. In the past week, a young mother, named Anna, and her child who needed somewhere to sleep before they traveled to London. She told Evelyn they wouldn't be leaving until tomorrow, but had yet to return to the home. 

She suspected the woman was a prostitute, but never passed judgement. 

Those who lived in ratty houses shouldn't throw stones, after all. 

“I haven’t seen them,” Moses replied. “Probably for the best. I wouldn't trust her in the same place as this morphine.” 

Evelyn just nodded. “Perhaps.” 

“I’m working the factory the rest of the week. Will you be alright here, on your own.” 

“I was fine before you came along, wasn't I?” Evelyn didn’t mean to spit her words out with such contempt, but sometimes she couldn't help it. There were many things that lit rage in her blood, but the idea that she couldn’t take care of herself took anger to a whole other level. 

“You know that’s not what I mean, Ev.” 

She took a deep breath, steadying her thoughts. “I know, I’m sorry. I just-”

“I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself.” 

“I get it, you’re just looking out for me. It’s a sore spot for me.” 

Moses got out of his chair, the wood creaking as the weight was lifted off. He stood in front of Evelyn and grabbed her by the shoulders. “I worry, that’s all.” Evelyn smiled apologetically, nodding her head. For years people viewed her as a little girl who couldn’t survive on her own, and that mentality stuck with her through childhood and into adulthood. At twenty-four years old, she had long proven that she was more than capable of taking care of herself. 

Evelyn removed herself from his grasp, the closeness making her feel uneasy. She had never been one to seek affection. “If you’re not going to the factory until tomorrow, what are we going to do for food? We need something to hold us over until you can sell the morphine.” 

“I’m not sure,” Moses replied. “I can go down to that bakery on Main Street and see if they have any stale bread in the trash.” 

“Let me,” Evelyn said, feeling a bit guilty for snapping at her friend. 

“You already did enough today, Ev. Stay here.”

“And sit on my arse waiting? Fat chance, that is. I’ll go, you stay and count the morphine. Maybe Anna will be back too. I’m sure she’d like to see a familiar face.”

Moses was hesitant, but agreed. “I’m much nicer than you anyways.” 

Evelyn stuck her tongue out like a child, starkly contrasting the worn-down environment around her. Moses always admired how Evelyn never let their circumstances break her snarky spirit. 

She went near the fireplace in the dusty living room and warmed her hands, preparing for yet another adventure in the damp, cold air. The wood was running low, she would have to get some more of that as well. 

Some days, it seemed as though laziness outweighed the effort to stay alive with the basic necessities. 

With a final wave goodbye to Moses, Evelyn crawled through the window and placed the wood back in its resting spot. They would have to find a new home soon. She could see the roofing slowly caving in under the pressure of the collapsed panels. They had only been there for a few months, but finding shelter like this was a rare opportunity. It was only a matter of time before it collapsed in on itself, and she didn’t want to be stuck inside when it happened. 

She felt a prick in her finger, looking down to see yet another splinter lodged into her calloused hand. Her once soft skin transformed with the lifestyle, becoming a hardened shell for Evelyn to hide behind. It had seen too many injuries to account for, yet still remained her chipped battle armor that protected her from life’s ugliest features. 

Poverty wasn’t a secret in Camden. People treated the poor like a wife to her husband’s mistress: always there but never spoken of. 

As the evening wound down, the city got quiet. Only the occasional car honks on the damp street distracted Evelyn from her constant musings. She watched a young boy hold on to his mother’s hand, jumping from puddle to puddle without a care in the world. A sharp wave of envy came over her, shoving past the hope it took so long for her to build. Why could she not have a childhood like that? One filled with love and comfort that poverty never gave her. 

Her mother had passed away when she was just an adolescent. An unrelenting cold had encompassed the city one winter season, seeping into people’s lungs and killing them slowly. Eveyln’s mother fell victim to the sickness, weakening her body until it finally gave in. 

Her death broke Evelyn into pieces.

Watching the young boy, she only wished she could hold her mother’s hand, one last time.

Main Street was home to shops and markets of all sizes, but most noticeable was the bakery at the end of the lane. The small storefront largely contrasted the giant buildings behind it. The scent of fresh bread wafted around the entrance like fairy dust. Because it was Saturday, the Jewish day of rest, the bakery had a large CLOSED sign hanging from the glass door. 

“Well that’s lucky,” Evelyn whispered under her breath. Less people, less worry of getting caught. All she wanted was a few loaves of bread to stick beneath her jacket. 

Business we’re required to leave their trash on the street. It wasn’t there, so that must mean they already disposed of it and she needed to find a new plan. 

She moseyed over to the alley next to the store. With a building so big, there must be multiple entrances. She looked around the corner, noticing that the alley was a dead end. There was a man guarding a heavy door. It seemed odd to Evelyn, that a bakery needed night guards. 

Whatever the case, the door looked to be popped open, allowing the cold air to relieve the workers of the hot atmosphere in the building. Now that’s just too easy. It only took her a few moments to devise a simple plan. Hopefully, if luck really was on her side, the bread would be just beyond that door. 

It was time for action. 

“Please help!” she ran around the corner, clutching her arm. Red stained the sleeve of her coat. Her eyes were panicked, immediately grabbing the guard’s attention. “I’ve been stabbed!” 

The man met her halfway down the alley. “Fuckin’ hell, are you alright?” he asked. 

She looked at him incredulously. “No, I’m not fuckin’ alright. A man stabbed me and took my purse. My month’s wages are in there, I have to get it back!” She shot him a look that left no room for questions, before flashing what she called helpless eyes at the poor guy. Lashes fluttered up and down as her features twisted in pain. “Please,” she begged. 

The man ran out the alley as quickly as possible. “He went left, all the way down Main Street,” she yelled after him. Then, she waited. 

Three, two, one. She stood up straight, unclenching the hand she had around her “stab wound,” revealing squished raspberries in her palm. “That was easy,” she said, opening the metal door and getting hit with a wall of hot air. 

She took a sharp right, leading her up a short set of steps and into the bakery storefront. Her body was crouched to avoid any passerby’s peeking at her curiously. The displayed bread baskets and case were empty to keep the pastries from going stale. There must have been some kind of storage cupboard. 

She searched high and low, silently opening drawers and cupboards only to come up empty. 

“Bloody hell,” she whispered. She reached for the cash register, but knew it was locked before she even tugged the little handle. Time was running short. She watched the guard run past the window, still unaware of her motives. 

In the corner of her eye, there was a bin placed neatly out of sight of customers. Lifting the top, she breathed a sigh of relief. She picked up a loaf. It was untouched, most likely the leftovers from Friday’s bake. There were about four loaves and a few pastries, a bit stale but they still smelt delicious to Evelyn. 

She quickly grabbed the medium-sized sack that she had stuck in her waistline beneath her jacket. She threw the pieces in, put the bag over her shoulder and made her way quickly to the alley door. The guard was back. “Fuck,” she said under her breath. 

Making her way back to the storefront, she silently unlocked the main door. When the street was relatively clear of people, she opened the door. A bell sang from above her, causing her to jump. She slid between the doorframe and the glass, stopping the door with the tips of her fingers. She eased it closed very slowly, praying the bell wouldn’t ring again. Once she was in the clear, Evelyn walked away as inconspicuous as possible. 

She did it. With a small smile, she turned the corner, whistling the entire way home. 

Too bad she didn’t notice the notorious gang leader, smoking a cigarette from the roof, eyes trained on her figure until she was completely out of sight. 

Whether it was the fact that someone slipped through his security, or that said someone had the balls to even try, for the first time in over thirty years, Alfie Solomons was left entirely speechless.


	2. At First Glance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfie sees his thief for the very first time... and comes up with a plan to finally meet her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Smokes, you guys. I’m having a blast writing this! Also, for those who commented and liked, you guys MADE MY DAY! Thank you :) 
> 
> This is a short chapter, following our favorite gang leader. BUT I have a longer chapter to publish in just a few days.

Aflie’s cigarette sat neatly between his lips, the smoke rising into the air and blending in with the cloudy sky. The sun had begun its descent, leaving behind pink and orange brush strokes in its wake. It had been a long day filled with contracts and paperwork in the humid factory atmosphere. His ass was sore from sitting in his office chair for so long. 

His exposed skin felt sticky with a sheen of sweat that coated his bearded neck. He discovered the pleasant quietness of the rooftop only a week before, and had since made a trip every night to enjoy the view. His body yearned for the fresh air that Alfie deprived them of during the day. 

Shivers ran through his bones at the exposure of chilly air. He craved the deep breaths of nicotine in his lungs, calming the muscles held tight in his shoulders and arms. Winter was peeking through the fall leaves like a tiger ready to pounce. Snow was inevitable, most likely piles of it falling down tonight and remaining for a whole month, freezing and melting so many times that the asphalt cracks beneath the constant changes. 

Alfie welcomed the cold like an old friend, embracing it with all his burly might. The city was calmer during the snowfall. Less people out on the streets to annoy him incessantly. Camden inhabitants seek the shelter of their warm homes over the harsh winds that fly between the buildings like currents in the sea. 

He walked towards the very edge, propping his foot on the raised ledge and leaning an elbow on his knee. The people below looked like rodents in a maze, zigging in and out on the sidewalk, cutting through alleyways and running into each other. In a few minutes, the crowd would thin as men returned home to their families and women finished their shopping. But he didn’t care about them. 

He cared about her.

The mystery woman that had “broken into” his bakery nearly four times this month. In his head, he had labeled her as the Bread Burglar. She could have stolen a hell of a lot worse than that. Stale bread and dry pastries were worthless compared to the rum he distilled and sold from the factory. 

He was curious about her, though. If it were anyone else, he would have killed them as soon as they came back. He never gave second chances. 

But her… there was something about her. Her motives confused him. Someone that poor wouldn’t have the guile to survive Camden for many years. Either she was an expert, or just liked to break in for the thrill. 

She must not have been aware of the… underworld of the city if she chose his bakery to steal from. Everyone and their mother knew that Alfie was in the red zone, per say. An untouchable figure in society who both gave back to the community and economy with illegal workings. His gang was well known in Camden, striking fear in many and drawing respect from even high society members. 

Were they liked? No. 

Were they respected? Fuck yes. 

So why would this girl choose his bakery, of all places?

He never got a clear look at her face, always shadowed by the thinning light of the sun as it fell beneath the trees. She was a tiny little thing, about as tall as his shoulders. Her hair was covered with the hood of her coat, as well as the rest of her body. The only way he knew it was a woman was the way she walked. Her feminine hips swung from side to side invitingly, curves hugging the sides of her jacket. 

This girl was smart. She knew when to strike and what to look for. He wondered how long it would take for his idiot guards to catch on, though he suspected they wouldn’t. The register was counted and locked each night before closing, so the only thing she could get was stale bread. The shop was closed on Saturday, to respect Shabbat. It was the ideal time to sneak in and out without being noticed.

The first time, Alfie had been stuck in the office taking care of a pesky “rat problem” within his close-knit circle. Someone had been feeding information to Sabini, so he spent every waking hour at the bakery trying to figure out who was betraying his trust. A few weeks ago, after a grueling interrogation session, Alfie escaped to the roof for a moment of reprieve. 

Or, as he so eloquently phrased it to Ollie, “I need to get outta this fuckin’ room before my balls shrivel up under the fuckin’ pressure.” 

That’s when he first saw the girl, and how she tricked his guard into leaving the door unattended. He, too, was fooled at first. He watched her sprint into the alley holding a bloody arm and looking frantic as ever. He couldn’t make out what she was saying, only the manner in which she said it: rushed and panicked. 

She pointed in the opposite direction and the guard made haste towards it. Alfie, too, was about to run through the exit, down the rickety steps and right towards her when he watched her demeanor change in the matter of seconds. She stood up straight, unclutching her arm and letting what looked like berries fall to the dirty ground, kicking them to the side and out of view. 

By the time he had rushed down from the roof and into the storefront, she was gone. He unlocked the register with his master key, going through the money to see if it matched the inventory. All was fine. 

He didn’t understand what she took, until he noticed a bin slightly askew in the corner, where they put the items not sold. The next morning, someone would take it to the streets and donate it to the poor. 

It was useless to them anyway. 

The following saturday, he was curious if she would come back. If that was the case, Alfie would just give her the baked goods. No break-in necessary. He was too lost in thought, waiting for her to arrive, that he didn’t realize she snuck in until after she was already gone.

She had evaded his grasp yet again. 

The following Saturday he just watched, silent and observing every move. 

His fascination has only since grown. 

Tonight, however, Alfie threw in a little surprise for her. He had asked the actual bakers to throw in a few fresh pastries for her. They looked at him like he was crazy. Who threw away fresh goods? Alfie just gave them a look that ceased their questioning. Some would have thought him charitable or considerate, but he had an ulterior motive. 

Alfie wanted to keep the woman coming back. 

So there he sat, on his third cigarette, willingly waiting for a stranger to sneak into his business and steal from him. 

Alfie heard the door to the roof above open and hit the wall, followed by nervous footsteps shuffling across the dirty roof. 

“Sir, we have an update on-“ Alfie’s hand shot up, silencing Ollie, his right-hand man, with one gesture. 

“Ollie,” he said, pulling his arms up and motioning to the quiet, empty area. Smoke billowed from the stacks like a jellyfish rising to shore. “Where are we right now?”

Ollie hesitated, looking around. His arms laid still against his sides. “The roof, sir?” 

Alfie raised an eyebrow. “That a question, or your answer?”

“Answer, sir,” Ollie replied, not nearly as confident as his words reflected. At home, he was a happy-go-lucky man who’s cheesy jokes made his wife shake her head and laugh. At work, though, Ollie filtered all his words out of respect, and maybe a little fear, for his boss. 

“Correct! An’ what am I doin’ on the roof, mate?” 

“Well, you said you needed a break.”

“Righ, righ. So, Ollie,” Alfie said, waving his cigarette through the air with a trail of smoke, “when I said I needed a break, did I ask you to come up ‘ere and bother me?” 

“No, sir.”

“Ah, okay, that’s what I thought.” 

“Sorry, Sir.”

“Don’ worry, I forgive you.” Alfie twisted his body to peer below, seeing if he could spot the girl. 

“Thank you.” Ollie never knew how Alife could gain the upper hand in almost every interaction. If he wanted to, Alfie could probably convince Ollie that the war was his fault. The worst part? Ollie would believe him. They had an interesting relationship, the longest Alfie’s ever had. It was built on mutual loyalty. As much as Alfie fucked around with his assistant’s feelings, he knew that he would be lost without Ollie at his side. 

“Oh! One last thing, Ollie.”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Fuck off, mate.” 

“Yes, Sir.” Ollie nodded and turned away, his lanky form returning through the rusted door and into the factory below, a wave of heat hitting Alfie’s back as he turned away. 

The bustling street below slowed down within minutes. The cold had turned from refreshing to uncomfortable the longer Alfie stood outside. He finished his final cigarette, letting it fall to the ground and lightly stomping on the dimly lit bud with the bridge of his boot. 

He almost missed her again.

The girl’s small frame lithely moved within the shadows of the damp alley. He could see her breath where it met the cold air, rising towards him like a bubble in water. The wind blew her coat open, giving Alfie a better view of her figure. He was not disappointed. 

She marched to the door in a silent rhythm, peeking through the small crack for anyone before making her way inside. Alfie smirked down at her, taking a deep drag of nicotine and exhaling in the darkening sky. The night guard opened the door and blocked her exit. Alfie moved to the other edge of the roof, towards Main Street. 

A few minutes later, she emerged from the front door, a soft jingle from the bell above her. The hood on her coat was blown off with a gust of cold air, revealing dark, curly locks trying to fly away with the wind. She quickly grabbed the hood and pulled the rough fabric above her head once more.

She looked around suspiciously, making sure her actions weren’t caught. Reaching into the bag, Alfie recognized a twinge of surprise. She stopped in her tracks, slowly pulling out a freshly baked loaf. She hadn’t noticed it was still warm when she placed it in her sack, but it felt like heaven against her freezing fingers. 

The girl spared a final, curious glance at the bakery before trotting off, a ghost of a smile resting on her face. Alfie noticed it, too. 

He wanted to see it again. 

Alfie made his way inside and to his office, soaking up the quiet factory that usually held a cacophony of harsh mechanical sounds.The place smelt of cheap rum, which Alfie always associated as easy money. Only a small portion of the equipment was allotted for the actual baked goods. The rest created booze that was shipped across England and sometimes to the United States, who paid a pretty penny for the illegal substance. Alfie had built quite the business for himself. It consumed his life, eating away at his time like gnats on roadkill. 

He grunted as he fell into his chair, leaning back into the plush material. “Ollie!” he yelled, his voice flying through the open door and echoing across the noiseless factory. He listened to his assistant’s shuffles steps approach the door, before peeking his head through. 

“Yes, Sir?” 

“Who on the security team is workin’ next weekend?”

“I’d have to check the log, but I’m assuming the usual four men. Would you like me to add more?”

“No,” Alfie replied, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his desk. Papers shuffled beneath the weight of his arms. The chair groaned its resistance. “Cancel the security. We won’ need ‘em.” 

“But Sir-”

“No one is to be here aside from me. Make sure of that.”

“I don’t understand, Sir.” 

“I didn’ ask you to, mate. Just do as I say.” Ollie nodded, dutifully. 

“But what if someone breaks in?”

Alfie let a smirk appear, quirking his lips up. He had a plan in mind, but only he would know of it. “I’ll take care of any fuckin’ idiots who think they can steal from me. Don’ worry your pretty little head about it, Ollie.” 

The assistant looked distraught, but conceded. 

Alfie was finally going to meet his burglar. And this time, he would be surprising her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alfie and Ollie’s relationship might just be one of my favorites. 
> 
> Anyway...
> 
> Look out for something new this week! 
> 
> Alfie and Evelyn ~might~ finally be meeting ;)
> 
> Comments and suggestions are always welcome!


	3. Let’s Make a Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our thief is finally caught ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it’s finally time Alfie and Evelyn met, don’t you think?

Evelyn was shaking. Out of fear or underlying arousal, she wasn’t quite sure. All she knew was that she sat in a chair directly in front of Camden’s most notorious gang leader, and his imposing figure stood a few feet away with a smirk on his bearded face. 

She felt like an idiot. How did he not realize the bakery was his? 

She should have listened to Moses. Earlier that day, he tried to talk her out of going again, but failed in his venture.

Evelyn had been trouncing around the main square of town with a confidence she’d never experienced before. The money that Moses was able to get in exchange for the morphine was more than they were expecting. After they divided the profit, with Evelyn getting more than her companion since she was the one who actually did the dirty work, there was enough left over to pay for food for a few weeks, as well as a little extra for personal treats. Like the plush jacket that now hugged Evelyn’s body and provided a soft warmth she’d not previously had the luxury of feeling. 

She had wanted to split the remainder, but Moses insisted that she use the money to buy something for herself, seeing as she spent most of her time worrying over the people who walked in and out of their makeshift house. Live a little, she kept muttering to herself. 

Generosity was in her blood. She didn’t see it as an option, it was her way of life. 

Moses was walking next to her as she basked in her newfound happiness. Her smile was infectious. It’s amazing how people didn’t glare at her, or sneer in their direction, when they wore clothes not ratty and covered in soot. 

Moses watched as Evelyn skipped across the sidewalk, carefree and happy for the first time since her mother passed away. He wasn’t the only one that noticed. Men peeked at her beneath their hats, trying to catch a glimpse of her figure in the form-fitting dress beneath her coat flaps. He grasped her hand and wound it through his elbow, catching her attention and making her stop skipping, regretfully. “I thought we could get some fresh meat tonight from the butcher. Really treat ourselves, you know? I think we deserve it.”

“Sure,” she replied with a genuine smile. It had been a while since she’d tasted a good cut of meat. It was usually delivered early to the butcher, but almost impossible to steal. Someone was always watching. The only real meat they found was nearly inedible. She didn’t want to risk getting sick. “I like the sound of that.” She lowered her voice, making Moses tilt his head down to hear her voice. “I can stop by the bakery and snag some bread again.” 

Moses furrowed his brow. “Why? We have enough to buy it now.” 

“That’s no fun.” 

“But it's safer.” Moses, always the rational one of the group. Evelyn rolled her eyes at her companion, feeling more playful than she had in the past few weeks.

“Fuck being safe. That’s boring.” She unraveled her arm from Moses’ elbow and ran ahead a few steps only to twist her body back to Moses. “You know better than anyone that the last thing I am is boring.” Her eyes twinkled with building anticipation. Dark lashes batted against her scheming eyes. 

They reached the door to the butchers. Thankfully he had workers not celebrating Shabbat and serving the remaining customers before the day came to a close. Moses’ hand grabbed the metal doorknob and felt a shock from the coldness that sat on the surface. He was halfway through the door when he realized his little companion was not behind him. Looking around he saw her figure weave between people on the sidewalk. She turned her head and looked back, shooting him a wink. 

“I’ll meet you back home!” Her voice sounded faint by the time it reached Moses’ ears. Her body disappeared amongst the sea of dark colored coats hanging from pedestrians. 

He just shook his head. If she was one minute too late, he would be furious. She always put her well-being behind others, no matter how many times he told her otherwise. He knew Evelyn was addicted to the thrill of theft, even when she was sitting in a jail cell if she ever got caught. It was like a gambling addiction. There was always another thrill on the horizon. Another con to put into action. 

She would never be able to stop. But Evelyn was well aware of that. 

The closer she got to the bakery, the more her heart pounded against the walls of her chest. That addictive feeling never ebbed, no matter how many times her limber hands would reach into an unsuspecting pocket, or sneak into a restricted building. The adrenaline built up in her system like morphine being injected directly in her veins. 

Her eyes narrowed on her target. The end of the street had significantly less people walking about, which made sense seeing as it was the Jewish area of town and it was the day of rest. Just what she wanted, some peace and quiet. 

She stuck her hands in the velvety pockets of her new coat, blending in with the inconspicuous surroundings. The factory was definitely closed. She could tell by the dormant smoke stacks that are almost always active. The rainy season had ebbed away, giving way for winter to lay its icy hands over the city with a blanket of snow. 

Evelyn gracefully hopped over a slick of ice at the entrance of the alley. When she had silently peeked around the brick wall, she noticed no one was guarding the door. She was expecting to wait it out, seeing as there was no shift change for another half hour. “Odd,” she mumbled into the noiseless air. The door was shut, unlike the other times when it was left ajar. Was it locked? She wrapped her fingers around the handle and pushed down. The door opened with a soft click. 

She pulled her hood up and looked around the entrance. She usually just turned right into the bakery storefront for the bread that remained from the previous night. 

Evelyn stood still and held her breath, willing her ears to pick up any faint sounds that would send her running back to Moses with a hesitant “you were right.” Alas, the only sound was her heart pattering beneath her sternum and flowing into her ears. She felt her skin throb with the beat. The lights were all off aside from two or three that made sure the factory wasn’t doused completely in darkness. 

It was thrilling. 

Her brain told her to pivot right, grab what she came for, and swiftly make an exit. 

Too bad she didn’t always listen to her brain. 

Instinct was imploring her to go left, into the nearly black factory filled with barrels and containers, for which she had no idea their purpose was. Curiosity won out, as it always did, and she began a slow gait into the unknown. Her feet shuffled against the freshly swept concrete floor. Every few steps she would stop her movements and listen for new sounds. She had no idea where the other exits to the building were, so there was always a possibility that someone could creep in behind her. 

The air was thick with heat as a result of so many machines working in an enclosed space. Grease-soaked rags sat atop metal tables spread across the floor. The deeper she got, the more her interest peaked. Past the tables laid the barrels she noticed earlier. 

But with the shadows cast throughout the room, she had severely underestimated the amount of wooden, ink-marked barrels there were. Some lay on their sides, others standing up nearly as tall as Evelyn. It seemed neverending, like one of those dreams where nothingness continues on for an infinite space. Though she knew the factory wasn’t infinite, it sure as hell was big. She approached a vertical barrel, running her fingers across the rough wood. 

Her mind was running wild with the possibilities of what they contained. Part of her thought it was something boring, like grain, or maybe flour. The other part of her brain reminded her that flour was stored in sacks, not giant, unmarked barrels that were guarded with day and night security. 

She looked around, searching for hidden movement or errant sounds. There were none, so she made her decision. She was going to find out what an innocent bakery was hiding in these giants. 

Evelyn grabbed a crowbar that sat crooked atop the barrel. She placed the tapered edge in the small space between the top and the body of the crate, before pulling all her bodyweight down. It took some time, but the top unsealed with a quick pop that echoed more than she wanted it too. The sound made her jump since she was so used to the unrelenting silence for the past few minutes. 

Immediately after opening the lid, a scent of alcohol invaded her nostrils and caused her to cough. She stumbled back, trying to hold in the remainder of her coughing fit as to not draw attention. 

“Bloody hell,” she whispered. Evelyn had her fair share of drinks in the past, but this seemed to be on a whole other level. 

There was an empty, albeit slightly dirty, clear glass on a table a few steps away. She reached her hand out and grasped the edge, taking her shirt and rubbing away the dirt on the rim. She held her breath and dipped it into the barrel. 

The amber liquid sloshed around the glass and dripped down the edges. She swirled it, allowing the scent to waft into her nose. The more she got used to it, the more she could appreciate the subtle, smokey hints of flavor beneath the heavy aroma. Based on her not-so-extensive knowledge of liquor, it seemed to be either rum or whiskey. 

A light flickered above her, buzzing in and out like an invisible hand was tapping against it, before going out completely. Evelyn slowly brought the glass to her mouth. 

She could taste it before the drink even touched her lips, burning her senses in the best way possible. It had been a long time since a strong drink made its way into her system. Her mother never drank the stuff, so she had no idea where her taste for alcohol came from. But whenever the opportunity presented itself, which wasn’t often, she took it with a smile. 

It was strong, that’s for sure. The alcoholic flavors seemed to beat out any other taste without even trying. It was cheap liquor. She took another sip. Definitely cheap. Her nose scrunched up as it barreled down her throat like tires on gravel. 

A black stamp and insignia painted on the barrel drew her attention. She had seen it before, around town. Quite possibly in the rather seedy parts of Camden. Because it was so dark, she had to strain her vision to read it properly. 

PROPERTY OF-

What did that say? She sidestepped to the next barrel which had more light cast upon the surface. The glare of the light on ink made her crane her neck further. 

PROPERTY OF A. SOLOMONS

The liquor suddenly felt like sand in her mouth, drying up any attempt at speaking. “Fuck,” she mouthed. A. Solomons? There was only one A. Solomons in Camden Town. And she had broken into his bakery without a care. Multiple times. 

“Tastes like shit, if you ask me. Not nearly as good as the white rum.” 

Evelyn jumped, rum spilling out of her glass as she practically choked on the sip already in her mouth. She twisted around, grasping for the knife she kept in a sheath on her inner thigh. 

“I wouldn’t do that, luv. I don’t take kindly to having a weapon pointed in my face.” A deep, baritone voice sliced through the silence and right into her nerves, making her shiver beneath her coat. 

Her eyes immediately made contact with a broad chest, layered with a white buttoned shirt and dark suspenders. Her head craned up, slowly, like she was an easily spooked animal. His neck looked strong, veins and muscles moving with the bob of his Adam's apple. Through her lashes she could make out the hardened features of his face past the thick, short beard and mustache. His bottom lip, exposed from the neatly kept facial hair, twinged upward in a smirk. His nose was long, in a masculine way that fit his facial structure perfectly.

Finally, she met his hazel eyes with her own, a curiosity guarded by overwhelming fear. Her observation came to two conclusions. 

First, this man was obviously important. His hands looked calloused with use that only factory workers or gangsters got involved with. His steps were heavy, but calculated. His intense nature hid behind a facade that relaxed his prey before attacking. He basked in her fear like a crocodile on the banks of a lake, using it to fuel his methods of intimidation. 

Secondly, and what Evelyn was annoyed for even thinking about in such a time like this…

He was handsome. Damn handsome. The kind of rugged manliness that only came from overpowering others. She imagined him inheriting all the strength of opponents who dared to cross him. It was almost as intoxicating as the rum currently shaking in her hand. 

“You fuckin’ mute or somethin’?” he asked, crossing his broad forearms across his chest. He tilted his head, gazing down at her. “Or did I just scare the words outta’ tha’ head of yours.” 

Evelyn was never great at making split decisions. At this point, she had arrived at one. She could be compliant, maybe even sorrowful and try to talk her way out using the sympathy card she always kept handy in her back pocket. It would be the easy way to cover herself from future dilemmas. 

Evelyn didn’t take the easy way. 

Her anger surfaced and finally allowed words to spit from her mouth. “You sell this shit as liquor?” she asked, raising her glass and looking at it thoughtfully. “I thought it was poison for rats like you.” The man’s jaw clenched and his nostrils dilated. She had poked the bear. 

“You’re in my house, sweetheart. I don’ think you’re in the position to be makin’ accusations, yeah?”

“Not an accusation, Sir. Just an… observation.” Evelyn watched his eyes get darker at the mention of a formal title. She made sure to make note of that for future situations. Well, if she survived long enough for another interaction with the stranger. 

“Such big words for a little girl.” 

“This little girl has a bigger set of balls than you.” She couldn't stop digging herself into a deeper hole. Maybe she just shouldn't speak anymore. 

“That mouth’ll get you in trouble.”

“I’m already in enough trouble. Why stop now?” 

His muscles tightened. She watched a vein in his forehead making its presence known and pop out. He stepped forward, intending to intimidate her into moving back. But she refused, remaining in front as his shadow engulfed her figure. She kept eye contact as long as possible, but his gaze burned her skin. He was a blazing fire that she couldn’t move away from. 

Evelyn dropped her eyes, instead looking forward into his chest wondering what his next move would be. Then, he did something… confusing. 

His chest began shaking with restrained laughter. She peeked beneath her lashes and saw his lips curled into a smile. 

She didn’t know whether to feel scared, or really fucking angry. 

“You… are just as I hoped.” Evelyn was officially speechless. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? She had never come in contact with this beast of a man in her many years traversing the grungy streets of Camden, though the rumors that walked the streets never eased her mind. He was notoriously known as a smuggler. Most people never came in contact with him, only his heartless lackey’s acting on his orders. 

“And you… must be the famous Alfie Solomons.” 

“We met before, luv?” 

“No,” she replied, confidence slowly crawling back into her body. If he wanted to hurt her, he would have acted when she was vulnerable and unaware of his presence. She was smart enough to know that, at least. But Evelyn was always one to test boundaries. 

This occasion was no exception. So she continued. 

“Your name is on the fuckin’ barrels. And, seeing as you’re the only one here, I put two and two together.”

“What if I just work for Mr. Solomons?” He said the name like it tasted odd in his mouth. Probably because Evelyn presumed he wasn’t one to speak in the third person. 

She smiled. “Then he’s a shit boss, leaving you all alone with what looks like thousands in profit.” 

“You think I’m a shit boss?” he asked, poorly-hidden irritation bleeding through his words. 

“I don’t know about that, but I do know that you’re absolutely Alfie Solomons.”

“Well then, since I have no bloody idea who you are, we should get to know each other, yeah?” Alfie turned his back and began walking in the opposite direction, down a lane between rows and rows of barrels that led into the darker area of the factory. Evelyn refused to walk after him, her instincts kicking in after being buried beneath adrenaline. Not hearing any footsteps behind him, Alfie pivoted on his heels and looked back at the small woman standing silent. 

“You gonna join me, or do I have to make you?” While her curiosity, and slight arousal, wanted to see what he would do to make her follow after his muscular body, her mind told her to refrain from antagonizing him. Well, too much. 

“Why do you answer everything with a question?” Evelyn quirked an eyebrow up. 

“Fine. Join me, or I’ll make you.” 

“Better.” Her eyes glittered impishly. She set the glass cup on the table with a steadier hand than before. “But you’re not as scary as you think you are.” 

“Why don’t you find out.” A slow smile crept up his face like a snake winding through the sandy desert. Against her better judgment, Evelyn allowed the man to beckon her forward. 

Her own actions confused her. Alfie, Mr. Solomons, could have killed her, but he didn’t. She, in turn, could have sprinted to the nearest exit like a horse in the races, yet she didn’t either. Maybe she was just idiotic, or perhaps she felt a current of reassurance emanating from the gang leader in front of her. Whatever the case, she took hesitant steps into the increasing darkness.

For much of her life, she’d seen her stubborn personality draw out the toxic, unrelenting masculinity from men who refused to be beat by a woman, whether in logic, intelligence or guile. In the face of someone who could have used the full force of his strength to diffuse her personality, he let her be. 

Evelyn watched his expensive leather shoes disappear into the shadows before her. He made his way past the rows of barrels and other pricey machinery that looked out of place in the “bakery” that she originally thought this was. She could only imagine the noises that the hulking metal devices could make when the factory was working at full speed. They were easily three times her height, which wasn’t saying much seeing as she was fairly short to begin with. Maybe it would be more logical to compare them to Alfie's height. 

He led them to the very back of the building. She didn’t realize it stretched back this far. From the outside, it looked half as big. 

“I can hear you thinking from over here.” Alfie opened an old wooden door into a darkened office. 

“This place seems bigger on the inside.” 

“It’s two buildings combined, they just look separate on the outside because they have different exteriors.” Alfie motioned her inside the room, switching a light on and illuminating the furniture. A heavy oak desk sat to the side with papers strewn in no apparent organization. “Didn’ want anyone to catch on to our… operations.” Alfie dropped into an expensive seat that dominated the room almost as much as he did. He motioned at the chair across from him. Evelyn sat lightly at the very edge. She refused to relax her muscles until the threat was gone. At this point, she wasn’t sure. 

So there she sat, shaking out of fear of the unknown and refusing to admit that this killer in front of her was more attractive than anyone she’d seen. He carried himself like a man, which she shamefully craved even though she very well could be dead within the hour. 

She needed to get her priorities straight. 

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked, voice steady. Her hands sat neatly in her lap like the lady she was never properly taught how to be. Her foul, uninhibited mouth was the only indication that she, in fact, didn’t know which fork to use for salad and dessert. Well, that and the dirt beneath her fingernails. She hoped Mr. Solomons didn’t notice.

His body laid lax against the back of the chair, like he didn’t have a care in the world. To a passerby, they looked to be great friends, perhaps lovers engaging in conversation.

Alfie looked her dead in the eye. “Cause I plan on killin’ you.” 

Evelyn’s face ashened immediately. For a split second, her heart jumped into her throat quicker than a virgin boy into a brothel. She could kill herself for getting into this mess in the first place. 

“Calm down, I’m fuckin’ with you, luv,” he laughed, getting a kick out of his joke, or maybe her reaction. 

“That’s not funny.” Evelyn leaned back into the chair, crossing her arms like a child reprimanded for not finishing her dinner. 

“I thought it was.” 

All she wanted was some fucking bread, not someone to scare the shit out of her and then laugh like it was the funniest joke across England. Alfie saw the fire beneath her skin the moment they locked eyes. It had been almost too easy to get a rise out of her, but he persisted. It wasn’t just entertainment. Her humanity was raw and bristling beneath the obvious societal constraints that put her in her current position. It was a rare sight. The only other time he encountered it was… with himself. He wanted to see just how similar she was. 

“What do you want from me?” she asked, peeking to see how close to the door she was positioned. If things went south, her escape wouldn’t be that simple. 

“I’m curious about you.” He shrugged his shoulders casually, as though he didn’t just threaten her life. 

“I broke into your operation. What else is there to know. Just tell me how I can pay you back and let me leave.” This whole occasion was surreal. Evelyn wanted out as soon as possible. She was never one to fear being in a strange place. Her entire life was made up and built upon strange places. 

Alfie, though, he was unnerving. He disarmed her walls and saw through to her emotion like he was staring through a dusty window. 

“It’s not that simple.” 

“It can be.” 

“What’s your name?” 

Evelyn paused. For a split second she was thinking of giving him a fake name. It didn’t matter though, her records were minimal to begin with. No matter how deep he dug into her history, he wouldn’t get very far. There was nothing to dig up in the first place. 

“Evelyn.” 

“Last name?” 

“Don’t have one.” 

“Don’t make me ask again, luv.” Alfie bristled in annoyance. He didn’t tolerate lying. At least when he was the one being lied to. 

“I’m not lying. I don’t have one. My mother never gave me a surname.” Evelyn turned her head down. It was true, to an extent. The reason she didn’t know her last name was because she was never told. Her mother politely remarked that her father was less valuable than the dirt beneath their shoes, and didn’t deserve to have Evelyn share his name, to any extent. Growing up with that, it became less of an oddity until it became the truth. 

“I’m just...Evelyn.” It was hard to explain. She had nothing to prove to this man, yet felt the inherent need to display her strength. Alfie just nodded, thoughtfully, but she could tell the thoughts bounced around his head. 

“Just Evelyn, then.” There was a softer side to him peeking through the cracks of his hardened exterior. “You want to tell me why you chose my bakery to steal from?”

“No reason. I was in the area. There was minimal security and few people working. It seemed like an easy job.” The truth fluttered from her lips before she got the chance to think about her answer. The look on Alfie’s face was apprehensive.

“That's it?” 

“I’m not the mastermind you think I am, Mr. Solomons.” Evelyn was a smart girl. Sure, she had planned her method of distraction for a few minutes. But other than that, she flew by the seat of her pants in a react if necessary type of mindset. 

“You tricked my guard the first night.”

“How-” Alfie threw his hand up, interrupting with his own words. They sounded more like a threat as they met her ears. 

“I know everything that happens in my bakery.” 

Evelyn pulled her coat across her body tightly, suddenly feeling more exposed. “Well, he was pretty easy to trick. Maybe you should think about getting better ones.”

Alfie remained silent, allowing his eyes to glare into her form. She looked even smaller and slumped in a chair, like a child being reprimanded. 

“All you took was stale bread.” Her body language betrayed the boldness in her voice. 

“There was nothing else to take.”

“Aside from the liquor-” Evelyn’s hands flew up defensively. 

“Which I had no idea was here until just now.” Now it was her turn to interrupt. She felt crazy, justifying her criminal activity to an allegedly bigger criminal. But she needed him to see that her motives were righteous and pure. She was probably the first honest person Alfie’s dealt with in weeks, considering his line of business. “You see, not a mastermind.” 

Alfie nodded again, taking in her words. “You’ve got grit though.” 

“Where I’m from, they call that survival.” 

“You’re good at it. Survivin’, that is.” 

“I get by, but I’m no professional. Anyone could have done it.” 

“I beg to differ.” Alfie was too focused on Evelyn that he failed to recognize the ridiculousness of the current situation. He was actively exalting the same woman who stole from him. 

Alfie pulled out a newspaper clipping from his desk. It looked worn, tearing at the edges and bent at the corners. “I have an offer for you,” he said. The sheet was translucent, making the letters muddle together and overlap from her viewpoint. 

“What kind of offer?” 

“Professional.”

Her face fell into a scowl. “I’m not a whore,” she said, words rushing out. 

“I didn’ say you were. Could you listen for a moment without interrupting?” Evelyn rolled her eyes and motioned him to continue. This meeting was turning out much different than she had expected. Not that she had expected a meeting in the first place. She should have been enjoying a nice meal with Moses by now. 

Shit, she forgot about Moses. He was probably wearing out the already rotted wood of the floors at home with his pacing. Meanwhile she sat in a cushy chair across from a gang leader who may or may not harm her, even though her gut instinct made her feel safe. 

“I have… competition in my field. Getting certain information from them would help me expand my business.” 

“And they won’t just hand it over to you? Shocking.” Alfie chose to ignore her deadpan voice.

“I need someone to take it from them.” 

“Then you need a thief, Mr. Solomons. You’ve got the wrong person.” 

“No, you’re just the right person.” Alfie stood and readjusted his suspenders. He circled the desk and leaned against the edge, just a few feet away from Evelyn. He reached into his pocket, taking a cigarette from his holder. He offered her one, but wasn’t surprised when she shook her head. Good, he thought. It was unbecoming of the lady. For his business, of course. At least that's what he tried to tell himself. 

“You’re exactly who I need,” he continued. “No one would turn their fuckin’ head at a pretty young girl walking around. Actually, that’s not right. They would turn their heads, but for an entirely different reason.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” she asked, feigning a girly voice and desperate eyes. Luckily he saw right through her act. Playful little thing, she was. He handed over the paper and gave her time to read the headline. It was an advertisement for the horse races in the country. They were always big, expensive ordeals that only the wealthy could afford. 

“Ever been to the races, luv?” He took another few drags from the cigarette, letting the smoke cloud the space around them. 

“Can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure,” she replied, eyes reading over the page. The print was tiny, almost impossible for her eyes to comprehend. After attempting to squint, she looked up and noticed a pair of glasses sticking out of Alfie’s shirt pocket. Without asking, she reached up and slid them out. Her fingers brushed against the fabric lightly, giving her a hint of the hard chest muscles beneath. 

Alfie enjoyed the short interaction, enjoying how her hand grazed against him just a second longer than necessary. Her hands looked so small, and he couldn’t help but imagine them splayed across his naked skin as she bounced up and down on his cock. 

She put the glasses on her eyes, which were comically large for her head, and began to read. There was a list of all the horses, probably for people to figure out which to bet on. Statistics and wager suggestions were spread across the article with numbers that made no sense to Evelyn. Gambling never quite appealed to her. 

“Want to?”

“Want to what?” she asked, eyes still roaming the smudged ink. 

“You want to go to the races?” Alfie took one last drag from his dying cigarette. 

Evelyn looked up with surprise written across her features. “I suppose so.”

“Then I’ll take you. But you have to do something for me.”

“Gather information on your competition that could allow you to infiltrate their consumer base and increase your own profit.” 

Alfie gave her a questioning look, wondering how a poverty-stricken girl such as herself could be so well educated. “Now you’re just usin’ big words, luv. I just need you to steal shit from them.” 

“I should get more than just a trip to the races if I agree to that.” She could imagine the thrill of walking into a room filled with wealthy socialites and not feeling their glares sting the skin beneath her clothes. What a life that would be, feeling a part of the masses instead of an outsider clawing her way through life. 

“That depends on your skills. Can you pick a lock?” 

“Better than most.” 

“Get past security?”

“I got past yours.” She had him on that one. 

“Find the right papers?”

“If that’s your way of asking if I can fuckin’ read business documents, yes. I can.” 

“Just makin’ bloody sure. You speak like a rich girl, wasn’t sure if you read like one too.” It was true, she spoke at a higher level, the way her mother taught her. She never knew about her mother’s background or education. She never spoke about it, thinking Evelyn too young to hear such dismal tales. The young girl had soon grown to accept that her past was never written where she could see. 

“Mr. Solomons, I appreciate the offer, I really do,” she said, removing the glasses and leaning forward in the chair. “But I don’t want to get involved in this world. I’m barely hanging on as-is. Let me pay for whatever bread I fuckin’ stole and I’ll just be on my way.” 

“I can’t let you do that.” 

“I’ll make good on what I owe-”

“Ten thousand pounds.”

Evelyn’s expression turned from shocked to indignant. “Excuse me?”

“Ten thousand pounds. That’s what you owe me, or you can work it off by coming to the races.” 

“No bread is worth ten thousand pounds, especially stale day-old ones.” Evelyn felt like ripping that smug smirk right off his face and throwing it on the horse track to be trampled over. He held all the power, and he knew it too. From the way he held his shoulders back to the arrogance of his hands casually sliding into his pockets, everything about this man was infuriating. And intoxicating. 

“Mine is. It’s special.”

“Special?”

“Special. Made by magical fuckin’ bread fairies.”

“You’re an arsehole.” Evelyn shook her head, ripping the glasses from her eyes so she could stare daggers into his face unhindered. She could tell no one has ever denied his requests before, probably because he was too intimidating to say “no” to. Who knows what kind of tactics he had up his sleeve, just to get his way. He must have been coddled by an overbearing mother as a child. Hell, he probably still was. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then.”

“Fuck you.” 

“Oh, I wish.” The look he gave her… It shook Evelyn to her core. All the sudden she became aware of the heavy fabric hanging on her body, the air becoming heated with the weight of his smolder. She tried to break eye contact by diverting her attention to the expensive oak desk he leaned on. She traced the gossy patterns of the wood, wondering what the cold surface would feel like on her blushing cheeks. 

A large hand reached under Eveyn’s chin and pulled her eyes back up to Alfie’s. “We have a deal?” he asked, not letting go. She nodded softly in agreement, submitting to the intensity of his eye contact. He caressed the skin beneath her lips so lightly, it felt like a mere whisper. 

She hated that the simple movement caused a flame to awaken within her. She avoided physical affection from everyone, but his strong hands felt different. He had a level of experience in him, which planted a feeling of safety deep beneath her hesitation. 

He dropped his hand and went back around to his desk chair. “Come back in a few days. We can over over what the fuck I need you to take, yeah?” 

Evelyn nodded again, trying to get a grasp on her bearings while surrounded by him. The office smelt like cigarettes and amberwood mixed in a warm tumbler near a fire. “Yeah, I can do that.” 

“Alright, luv,” he said, placing the glasses on his head. They fit him much better than her. “Get the fuck out, I got work to do.” 

Evelyn stood and straightened her clothing from the wrinkles that developed over her time sitting. The fabric was scratchy and cheap against her skin, amplified by the wealth that dripped from all the furniture in the office. The knife in her holster had unknowingly dug into her fragile skin and left a red indent where it sat. 

She dreaded going home and trying to explain to Moses what had happened. He would judge her, get angry and tell her that she should have just listened to him in the first place. 

But she wanted the thrill, the adrenaline rush that makes her heart beat in her chest like the pinnacle of a boxing match. 

She got it. Alfie was gifting that to her, whether he knew it or not. 

She made her way to the door, grasping the handle and letting the light spill out into the dark and silent factory. She was hit with a wall of cold air that snuck down her throat and dried her mouth. She looked at Alfie, who was concentrating on some paperwork. 

“How do you know I’ll come back?” she asked, voice ringing through the stagnant air. “You don’t know where I live. You only know my first name, really. I’d be impossible to track down.” 

Alfie simply lifted his eyes. “I know you will.” 

“But how?” 

“You look like someone who can’t pass up a thrill.” 

Alfie almost missed the small smile that ghosted across her face before she disappeared through the door. 

A thrill, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Questions? Suggestions? I love any and all feedback for you! Already have another LONG chapter in the works for next week (yay)!


	4. Time for a Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfie has a little task for Evelyn to accomplish before he can fully trust her. It turns out to be a test of willpower for both involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments honestly give me life. Keep up sharing the love, I’m am HERE. FOR. IT. 
> 
> Get ready for a long one...

Word Count: 13,469

It was pitch black by the time Evelyn made her way out of the building and onto the empty streets. The lights reflected against the piles of slow casting mustard-colored gleams across the pavement. Since the sun had finally given way to the stars, the cooler air bit at her cheeks in little pinches, leaving behind rosy spots on her skin. 

Evelyn didn’t feel it though. Blood pumped beneath her skin in a flow of heat, still feeling the residual touch of Alfie’s fingers brushing against her delicate face. His hands, rough and calloused, handled her with more care than she thought possible. 

It was just a touch. Nothing more. She tried to talk herself down and make it seem like an accidental brush of his fingers. The excuses did nothing to calm the warmth that swelled from her toes to her blushing face. 

She looked back at the giant brick building, observing that Alfie was right. The building behind looked separate but, inside, connected with the first making it seem like two different buildings. He was smart, trying to draw as little attention as possible to his undercover business. 

She tucked her hands back into her coat pockets, shielding them from the dry air. She didn’t want to go back home and see Moses’ fuming face, knowing he would go on and on about taking her safety seriously. That, and the fact that she was going home empty-handed. 

“Miss!” An unknown voice yelled from behind her. She was too distracted with her thoughts to hear his footsteps. She stopped in her tracks and eyed the stranger running up to her. He was lanky and boyish in demeanor, with a posher voice than what she usually hears around these parts. A sack hung from one hand, swinging with the momentum of his long gait. 

She paused, hand ready to grab her knife if it were to become violent. That might have been the saddest part about her life, the fact that trust in other people had been dismantled by a handful who had taken advantage of it. 

He noticed her apprehension, slowing to a walk. “Mr. Solomons asked me to bring this to you.” He finally reached her, slightly out of breath and questioning why he broke out into his ambitious sprint in the first place. 

“Here,” he said, handing over the sack. He took a few steps backwards, eyeing her with an inquisitive stare before turning back to the bakery. Ollie wished he could have stayed a little longer to get more of a glimpse at her. Alfie never gave things away for free. Hell, he never gave things at all. He took from people. Time. Energy. Sanity. So for him to do some act of kindness… there had to have been something in it for him. 

Evelyn stayed motionless. The sack felt light, but still filled with something. She turned back around, walking slowly, and opening the top. She reached a hand in, grasping onto something warm and pulling it out. 

A loaf of bread. 

She opened the sack wider, letting her eyes take inventory on the gifts. Loaves and pastries piled atop each other looking freshly baked. The scent that rose from the opening was pure heaven. She was tempted to keep her fingers on the bread just so they could stay warm, but she suspected the heat would dissipate quickly in the cold air. 

She smiled to herself, then realized what she was doing and dropped to her typically neutral expression. As her mother used to say, emotions were a weakness that only the heartless will use against you. In this city, heartless people outweighed those with a conscience. 

Evelyn’s steps were small, making the trek back to the outskirts of town a little longer so she could have time to think. 

Alfie confused her, both mind and body. He held so much power in his taunt muscles and nonchalant attitude. His mouth was snarkier than hers, though she couldn’t help but be stimulated by finally finding someone who could keep up with her. Wit and intelligence fell beneath propriety these days. 

Add in the fact that he gave her the bread she had so obviously stolen from him for weeks, and that makes one very bewildered Evelyn. 

She only passed by a few people on her way home. Mostly men probably making a visit to their favorite brothel. Bad things happened after dark, so she had an unspoken rule of limiting her exposure to the evening antics, especially when she was on her own. 

By the time Evelyn made it home, she could see Moses pacing from the front window. A candle in the corner shadowed his distraught facial features, but his body language was enough for her to assume he was pissed. 

She made her way to the secret window, climbing up the tire and slipping through with the sack of bread over her shoulder. The kitchen air was abundant with the distinctive smell of cooking spices. Her stomach clenched with a hunger she didn’t realize she had. Come to think of it, her mind had been so filled with Alfie that she had completely ignored her basic need for food. It was like a fog had lifted and all her emotions had risen to the service. 

Her boots thumped on the wooden floorboards like a cat graceful landing. The wood creaked beneath as she put her weight on them. She heard Moses stop, and then his thundering steps carried from the living room and into the kitchen. 

“Bloody hell, where were you? You scared me half to death!” His voice was stern and unrelenting. 

Evelyn only had a split second to decide if she should tell Moses the truth, or keep her whereabouts hidden. Based on his past and current behavior, the thought of her being in any kind of danger was not appealing to her friend. If she told him about her deal with Alfie, Moses would probably disagree. Well, more than disagree. He would flat out forbid her, even though she would do what she wanted anyway. But she would rather do things knowing that he approved. 

“I’m sorry, it just took longer than I thought,” she replied. That was technically the truth. She wasn’t in dishonest territory yet. 

“Longer than you thought? Ev, you were gone for four hours!” She looked to the ground for a moment. Shit, she thought. It hadn’t occurred to her that it had been that long. 

Evelyn took the sack of bread and dumped in at her feet. “I know, I ran into a bit more trouble than I expected.” 

“What kind of trouble?” 

“Calm down, I got what we needed. Plus a bit more, so I would consider it a successful run.” 

“What kind of trouble, Ev?” He gritted his teeth, obviously angry with her avoidance of the question. His ire came from a good place. Evelyn could tell he genuinely cared about her, even though it annoyed her to no end. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. 

“The guards didn’t shift at their usual time,” she said, taking the bread out and placing it one by one on the single table. She felt Moses’ eyes digging into her trying to catch her in a lie. 

Good thing she was an excellent liar. 

“If that happens again, just leave.” Moses picked up the bread, somewhat shocked that it was fresh. He could tell by the softness of the loaf, and the pleasant aroma coming from it. 

“I wasn’ in any danger.” Another lie. Well, she wasn’t sure of that yet. 

“It doesn't matter. Staying out that late, on your own, is risky.”

“I have my blade.” Evelyn pushed back the flaps of her coat to expose the weapon attached to her leg. 

“Please,” he implored, “just do this for me.” 

Evelyn nodded. “Okay, I’m sorry you were so worried.” She really was sorry. Even though they were just friends, the two had a bond stronger than friendship. They were surviving this world together. 

“So,” she said, trying to break the heavy silence that hung in the air like a dead tree branch in spring. “Wha’d you make?” 

“Scraps were cheap at the butcher’s. Thought I’d try that.” The gas stove in the kitchen was long broken, so Moses cooked the meat over the fire in the living room. The pan with herbs and meat sat atop a metal shelf, at the very tip of the controlled fire. He went back into the living room with Evelyn right behind him. “Smells good.” 

“Better than our usual porridge, I suppose.” He stared into the fire, occasionally moving the burning logs around with a stoker. He wouldn’t look her in the eye, no matter how she tried to lighten the atmosphere surrounding them. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. 

Evelyn sat down next to him and nudged his shoulder. “Mos,” she said, watching his head slowly turn towards her and make eye contact. His blue eyes looked tired, lashes drooping down with each blink. “I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean to make you worry like that.” 

She blamed herself for his exhaustion. Sometimes she even felt guilty, knowing that he cared for her the tiniest more than she cared for him. But Evelyn valued her independence more than anything. Asking for help, in her twisted mind, was the equivalent of failure. Moses happened to be collateral damage. 

He smiled faintly at her, before throwing his arm around her shoulder. “I know, Ev.” 

With two words, all was forgiven. 

The companions enjoyed a luxurious meal, made even better with the fresh bread that Alfid had provided. Her tongue wasn’t used to experiencing such flavors, so accustomed to under-seasoned foods as of late. 

When they were finished gushing over how delicious the meal was, the topic of Anna’s obvious disappearance snuck its way into the conversation. 

“Where do you think she went?” Evelyn asked. She was less concerned about Anna and more about her son, a little boy who had barely five years on him. 

“Not a clue. She didn’t give much information when she was here.”

“You think we should go out and look for them?” 

“Where would we?” With no information, it would be near impossible to find them. “They’re probably long gone by now.” 

“I just worry about that little boy. No child should have to grow up on the run.” Evelyn sighed, the dazed look in her eye caught by Moses, yet he said nothing. He knew her past laid heavily on her mind. 

When Evelyn first saw the boy, Jonah, her heart hurt. He was dressed in tattered clothing not fit for the colder weather. His cheeks were more taunt than they should be. She wished him to be chubby with good food, and be able to run around with kids his age. She knew how that felt, to grow up in poverty with only a mother. 

When her mother passed, she first looked into her background hoping that something could lead to the discovery of her father. She didn’t want to be an orphan, but it was forced upon her. A life of loneliness was not her choice; it was her prison sentence. 

“You realize you care more for strangers than you do yourself?” 

Evelyn let the silence speak for her. She knew Moses was right, and it was illogical given the circumstances she lived in. That never stopped her. “If not me, then who will?” 

The two sat in front of the fire and enjoyed the dying heat from the flickering logs. They listened to the sound of wind howling behind the boarded windows. Shadows danced across the water-stained walls, jumping over the chipped paint and exposed structure. Moses dropped new firewood in before they both tucked themselves beneath their individual cots in the living room. 

Moses was fast asleep in minutes, most likely fatigued by the hours of unnecessary worry. Evelyn stayed wide awake, looking at the ceiling as though it would collapse with the weight of her stare. 

Insomnia was her closest enemy. The never-ending days softly slipping into ever-present nights, only for the cycle to repeat again and again. Her mind ran rampant with hopes and fears for the future, of which she wasn’t even sure she’d make that far. 

She never meant to be caught by Alfie… and she couldn’t help be a little excited that she did. If she was a fire, he was the fuel being poured all over, antagozning her in the greatest way possible. People either condescended her for her small stature or shied away from her strong personality. Either way drove her up the wall. Alfie, though, drove her crazy in a completely different way. 

His masculinity was intoxicating without being toxic. He had a hard shell with a softer core. He could go head to head with his wit without getting into her head. 

He was an enigma. A hypocritical musing coming from Evelyn, the queen of confusion.

Her chin still tingled where he touched her. She felt something foreign flare in her lower regions when thinking about him. Evelyn seemed so small and fragile next to him, craning her neck to watch words spill between his bearded lips. Another hypocritical statement, she thought. Why did she fight so hard for her independence against Moses, and the high-class society members around her, only to yearn for the safety of some stranger’s strong arms? 

Her mind wanted to push him away purely out of self-preservation, but her body… her body wanted to crawl onto his lap and stay there forever. Apparently she shared more similarities to a house cat than anything else. 

Her limbs were restless with thoughts of him. She squirmed beneath her heavy blanket, failing to find a comfortable position. She closed her eyes and tried to force sleep upon her. But when she did, all she envisioned was him. The one person who really saw her, past the foul mouth and defensive persona. 

She wondered if he was still behind his expensive oak desk, the one with the smooth surface that beckoned her forward. She imagined sitting on the very edge, stark naked, enjoying the feeling on her skin. She would pull her dress up and reveal an expensive pair of garters he’d have bought her as a gift. Her thighs would open, calling him forward like a sailor to a lighthouse. His rough hands would massage the muscles, his face leaning down to stare at her own. 

What would his lips taste like? Amber wood and cigarettes, Evelyn guessed. She wanted his beard to tickle her skin as he brought his lips to her own, capturing them in seering domination that no other man could hold over her. 

It took her a few moments to realize that her hand had drifted between her thighs, brushing against the bundle of nerves that drove her crazy. She dipped her finger into the pool of arousal that lay beneath, finding her skin slick with her own wantonness. 

Moses coughed, making Evelyn pull her hands up and lay as stiff as a board. She carefully turned her head towards him, seeing his eyes still closed and drool coming from his mouth. A deep red ascended ber face. She couldn’t imagine getting caught doing that. 

The truth was, she didn’t have much experience at all. She wasn’t a virgin, but not worldly in that area either. A few… less-than-great encounters made her weary of men in general. Her past consisted of people who took what they wanted with no regard to her pleasure. Quite frankly, she found it hard to find someone she was truly attracted to. 

Until now. 

Evelyn shook herself out of her musings, deciding instead to count the tiny holes from the decaying floorboards above her head. Alfie could be married, or have someone of his own. Eventually she fell into a shallow sleep, her thoughts constantly drifting to her new favorite bearded gang leader. 

A few days passed with little excitement and excess boredom. After the Alfie fiasco, Evelyn decided it was best to refrain from her thieving ways. Before, she didn’t put much care into whether or not she was caught. Now that she had plans, though, she sang a different tune. She hadn’t had actual plans… ever. But Evelyn refused to put herself into a risky situation. She had a job to do for Alfie. 

That, and she really wanted to see him again. 

She woke up one morning and decided today was the day she would go back to the bakery and see Alfie. Since it was a weekday, she imagined the factory would be filled with his workers making legal and illegal products. Evelyn wished they could have the meeting in the quiet office like the past Saturday, but knew it wasn’t a possibility. She was sure he had people working through the night. 

She didn’t have much of a wardrobe, only a few things she’d been able to nip away from store clerks when they weren’t looking. The new “style” these days were straight, boxy dresses for women with celebrated boyish figures, small breasts and no hips. She saw ads with drawings of beautiful, waifish women in storefronts throughout the town square. They were gorgeous, of course. Evelyn thought all women were beautiful. She just didn’t particularly fit the image. Her breasts weren’t too large for her frame, but they weren’t small either. 

In perspective, her breasts fit her body to perfection, complimenting the way her hips flared from her waist in a feminine shape. Men had vulgarly admired her “child bearing hips” on multiple occasions. Because of them, though, it was difficult to emphasize her slight curves in the straight silhouettes that popularized themselves in the past year. 

Her short stature made for a little hill of softness in her abdomen instead of the usual bone thin socialites. At first she was resentful, thinking if she were just a few inches taller, her abdomen would be flat and she would fit into the box that society dictated for women. Over time, she came to understand her body. It made her feel human. Even in moments of self-doubt, she reminded herself that there were much bigger things to worry about. 

Years ago, shortly before her mother passed, Evelyn was employed as the assistant to a seamstress. The woman was kind, and always gave the young girl any yards of leftover fabric she had so that Evelyn could make her own dresses. Luckily by that point, she was finished growing tall. She learned to sew for her figure, creating patterns that clinched her waist and accentuated the best parts of her. The seamstress helped her grow confident in her body, and Evelyn got a collection of self-made, free dresses out of it too. 

When the seamstress moved to London, and her mother passed away, the young girl became a shadow in the night, stealing from store after store. Her dresses reminded her of the loss in her life, so she simply kept them in a box and moved them to the houses she squatted in. It had been years since she’d last opened it. Maybe today was the perfect time to try. 

“What are you looking for?” Moses asked, sipping on tea he’d made for them with the kettle over the fire. Evelyn was searching the dingy cabinets. The kitchen sounded like a boat yard with all the slamming of the storage doors. 

“That box of my things,” she replied. Strands of hair fell into her face, making her brush them aside with concealed annoyance. “I thought I put it in one of these cupboards.” 

“It’s in the other room.” 

“I just checked there, I didn’t see it.” Evelyn’s face was flushed with her frantic searching. 

“Under the sofa.” 

Evelyn scrunched her brow. “What?”

“Yeah, remember, you placed it there when you started opening our doors to the strays of the city.” 

She hastened to the obnoxiously patterned sofa, vaguely remembering putting it under the sofa to make sure it stayed safe. She was always ready to open her resources for others in her situation that needed it, but that didn’t mean she trusted them with her personal belongings. 

Evelyn got down on the floor and peeked her head beneath the furniture, seeing the short, wide box she was looking for. Dust flew around her face as she pulled it towards her. The storage material was worn and water damaged after spending too much time exposed to the elements. 

She carefully opened the flaps. The items were covered with a heavy blanket to shield it from anything that penetrated the box. She moved the blanket aside to reveal bright, silky fabric that didn’t belong in such a downtrodden room. She could have sold them for a lot of money, but never even thought of that as an option. The material was gorgeous, far more expensive-looking than anything she’s owned. The dresses felt light, but the fabric adequately shielded her skin from the cold air. They were a mix of long and short sleeves, with a variety of deep-tones and tasteful patterns. 

Evelyn couldn’t help but smile. 

She lifted an emerald green dress to her nose, reveling in the perfume that had woven into the strands. It was her mother’s favorite scent. Evelyn closed her eyes and allowed herself to be transported back in time, when she was warm in her mother’s soft, loving embrace. 

Reality was much too harsh sometimes.

“Find it?” Moses yelled from the other room, disrupting her musings. 

“Got it,” she said, her voice low as though she was only speaking to herself. 

Footsteps appeared behind her. She felt Moses eyes on her, hunched over on the ground. She stood up and brought the box into her arms. 

“What are those?” he asked. His hands were digging in his pockets, finally taking out a cheap watch to check the time. 

“Dresses I’ve made.”

“They look nice. Expensive.”

“Because they are.” 

“What do you need ‘em for?”

“Just wanted to keep them closer. I thought I lost them,” she replied, the lie slipping off her tongue like sap from a maple tree. She didn’t want Moses to have any reason to doubt her, especially when it didn’t involve him. Moses was a sensitive soul. She would feel even guiltier if he were to worry about her more than he already does. 

“I’m off to the factory. Won’t be back till the morning.” Moses put a cap on his head and made his way to the jiggered window in the kitchen. He almost always worked the night shifts because he was more likely to find a spot. Since he had no family to care for, he didn’t mind. “Be safe.” His body was halfway over the sill when he looked back at Evelyn and sent her a friendly smile.

“You too, Mos.” She returned the gesture, watching him disappear onto the winter streets. Once she was sure he was gone, Evelyn lifted the emerald dress from the box and raced to the private study off the living area. She dressed in her bra, a slip and her only pair of nude stockings that she owned. She decided to live on the wild side and forgo her knickers. Life is short, right? 

She knew she’d feel a little sexier if she walked around like she had a dirty secret. 

After saying a short prayer that the dress still fits, she put the silky fabric over her head and let it float down her body. She felt it hug her silhouette in a satisfying manner, gliding her hands across the threads and smoothing the wrinkles. 

It fit like a glove. 

She spent too much time then she’d like to admit trying to button the back together on her own, but she eventually managed to do so without a mirror. 

She fished the small tin of rouge from the box with the dresses and applied it to her lips and cheeks, though her cheeks were sure to provide a rosy complexion of their own when she was around Alfie. Evelyn also pulled out the tin of mascara cake that previously belonged to her mother, wetting the black substance and combing it through her lashes. 

She felt pretty. If only she had a mirror to prove her theory. 

She felt annoyed with herself for caring so much about what Alfie would think. She decided to just comb out her hair with her fingers, letting her curls sit wild atop her head. 

Evelyn grabbed her thigh sheath from the table where she dropped it the last time she had gone out. No matter what she was wearing, she felt naked without a weapon. Having a means of defense bolstered her confidence walking on the exposed streets of Camden. She never knew what was around the next corner. After sticking a few bank notes into her brassiere, her nerves practically bowled her over knowing it was time to leave. 

She walked to the window and noticed the light dimming in the sky. Her leg kicked the box back under the sofa after carefully folding the blanket over the other dresses and shutting the flaps. Her coat fit nicely over her clothing, providing ample warmth for the chill outside her walls. 

The closer she got to leaving, the harder her heart beat against her chest.

It felt out of place for her to be wearing socially acceptable clothing while climbing out a window and onto a tire, but little things like these reminded Evelyn of her place in this life. She carefully maneuvered the fabric so it would come in contact with the dirty panels as little as possible. No matter how nice the dress was, it could still be ruined by the smallest of grease stains. 

The dry air invaded her lungs as gust after gust bowled into her without reprieve. The street she lived on was narrow so it was easy for the winter to turn the road into a wind tunnel. Her hair flew around her face as if she were out at sea, nearly as wild as she was. The clouds spotted the sky intermittently, fueling the chill and blocking the falling sun. Her tattered boots were already muddy and splashed with grimy snow from the side of the street. 

She walked faster than usual. Her pace only increased the closer she got to the center of town. 

Evelyn was a woman on a mission. 

She wondered what he would say, seeing her in something other than ratty clothes more apt for his workers to mop the floor with. Feeling her long lashes tickle beneath her brow made her extra aware of the power this man had over her. Her eyes begged for his gaze, one that was lustful and protective. 

He was a bear that she wouldn't mind being trapped in a cave with all winter.

She had almost made it to the end of Main Street before doubt invaded her thoughts like weeds in a garden, grabbing onto her and not letting go. Her steps faltered, making other pedestrians weave around her in annoyance. She had no idea what she was willingly getting into. Had she gone insane? Had the years of loneliness finally broken the area of her brain that made rational decisions? At this point, both of them were possibilities. 

Evelyn’s jaw clenched as her internal battle raged on. For the first time in who knows how long, she was doing something because she wanted to do it. Everything up until had been done out of necessity. Survival was her top priority, leaving her wants so far back that she couldn't remember what they were. Until she saw him, that is.

Is it irrational for her to want someone who may or may not kill her?

Maybe. But she didn’t care. 

Moses told her she needed to focus on herself instead of always worrying on the people around her. This was her way of doing so. It just happened to come in the form of a captivating, infuriating man whose magnetic force pulled Evelyn into its gravity with ease. 

She hadn’t realized she started walking again until the sharp sound of her shoes drifted into her ears. She looked to the left, meeting her reflection in the glass window of the butcher’s shop. A smirk, one she didn’t know she was capable of making, grew before her, lips red and begging to be smeared. Her eyes, always wide with caution, melted into a hooded smoulder. 

Ready or not, Alfie, here she comes. 

Evelyn approached the bakery with her head held high, silky fabric brushing against her thighs through her stockings. She looked expensive. 

Hell, she felt expensive. 

The snow had been swept into the gutters on the side of the road, making it easier to walk down the lane and towards her destination. Her legs automatically walked her over to the side alley. There was no one at the door. 

Alfie really needed to hire better security. 

She approached the heavy metal door, grabbing the handle and pulling only to meet resistance. She pulled again. To her utter dismay, the fucking thing was locked. She knocked, then banged, with no response. She could hear the heavy grunts of the machinery behind the walls, drowning out her feeble attempts at getting inside. After a few minutes of not-so-patiently waiting, she gave up on this entrance and made her way back to the street. 

Through the bakery windows, she could see customers bustling inside to get the bread and pastries they wanted as two women behind the counter floated from basket to basket of baked goods. There was a line composed of four or five people with their money in their hand, hoping the person in front of them wouldn’t snag the baguette they had their eye on. 

The bell jingled as Evelyn opened the door. At first she flinched, thinking back to the week before when she would stealthily open the doors and try to sneak out before anyone caught her. This time, no one even spared her a glance. 

This was technically the first time she’s entered the bakery legally.

It smelt divine, all the sweet pastries and fresh bread melding in harmony. She removed her coat and reveled in the pleasant heat of the air that swept across her exposed skin. 

She never thought these words would circulate in her head but, as she looked around at the other people waiting, she realized she was overdressed. 

Quickly, Evelyn made her way to the counter after a series of dirty looks and scoffs. She reassured multiple people she wasn’t cutting in line, simply asking a question. Finally she reached the front, smiling at one of the woman. 

“I’m here to see Mr. Solomons,” she said, shifting her coat in her hands. The woman looked at her with brows furrowed, as though no one had asked to see him before. Evelyn hadn’t taken into account that, maybe, nobody had. 

“I’m sorry?” The woman plastered on a fake smile, looking briefly towards the other woman who mirrored the questioning expression. 

“Mr. Solomons. I’m supposed to meet him here.” 

“Oh,” the woman replied, a sweet voice chirping a decibel too high for Evelyn’s ears. “Mr. Solomons doesn't usually have guests come to the front.” 

“Well, I went to the side door and unfortunately it was locked.” 

“I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait there.” Evelyn’s patience, which was already drastically low to begin with, was nearing the end. Someone busted through a door behind the counter with a tray of fresh chocolate babka. 

“That seems like a perfectly workin’ door, don’t you think?” The woman’s eyes went wide. She wiped her palms on her white apron. 

“That’s for employees only. You can’t go back there.” 

“Technically I am an employee of Mr. Solomons.” Evelyn placed her forearms on the counter and leaned into them, invading the woman’s personal bubble before she could have a chance to pull away. “I don’t think he’d like to be kept waiting.” 

Evelyn abruptly stood back up and walked around the counter. The woman ran and blocked Evelyn’s path. Now everyone’s eyes were peering at the commotion. Not exactly what she had intended, but she’d have to work with what she was given. She barely registered the bell above the door ringing behind her before she opened her mouth to speak. “I suggest you let me through unless you want all these paying customers to see you flat on arse with a baguette shoved in your mouth.”

The woman’s eyes grew into saucers, glancing over Evelyn’s shoulder. That’s when she finally realized that someone very imposing was standing right behind her. 

“Now, now, little one. You don’ want to scare all my customers away.” Alfie’s baritone voice snuck up behind her like a leopard in the jungle, just waiting to pounce. Her heart jumped into her throat, having not mentally prepared to see him with the distraction in front of her. 

Alfie leaned down as though he was speaking to a child, even if she was practically the size of one. She could see his eyes take in the stain of her lipstick and dark outline of her long lashes. Her skin prickled with anticipation, his voice sending shivers through her body. 

“Why does it seem like every time I find you, it’s cause you’re makin’ trouble, yeah?” Alfie spoke softly to her like she would disappear if his voice got too gruff. He reached up and tucked a strand of hair beneath her ear delicately, his finger twisting the curl before watching it bounce out of his hold. 

Evelyn opened her mouth but the words wouldn’t come out. He had stolen her voice and, as she looked around the shop, most of everyone’s attention. The other bakery patrons seemed interested in the conflict, some more than others. Like the woman in the corner biting her lip and twirling her hair like it was a magic siren technique to commandeer his attention. Evelyn felt his thumb grip her chin, bringing her attention back to him. She hadn’t realized how close he was until she could vividly see his hazel eyes gleaming into her. 

“You’re goin’ to be a handful for me, aren’t you?” Alfie kept his hand in place, fully aware of the audience that surrounded them. 

She smiled, sugary sweet with underlying slyness he rarely saw in those who worked for him. “Is that going to be an issue?” Her brow quirked, daring him to answer otherwise.   
He returned her gesture with a low chuckle that could have caused an earthquake to break open the very ground they stood. 

“No, luv,” he replied, before leaning in close enough that she could feel the hot air breathing from between his lips. “I prefer it.” They engaged in a silent stare-off, soaking up each other’s attention. 

Alfie rose back to his natural height. He placed his hands onto the straps of his suspenders in a casual gesture, something he did in front of customers to put them at ease. He turned towards the woman who was still blocking the door. With one look she scurried to the other side, making herself busy taking the next customer’s order while the other took fresh bread off a tray and placed them into a basket for display. 

“You know, this is the first time you’ve legally entered my factory,” Alfie said as he held the door into the main building open and motioned Evelyn in front of him. 

“Legally entering an illegal operation. How ironic.” The factory air was more humid than she remembered. Probably because the machines were working at full capacity with employees running around between them. There were a few stations where men were kneading dough into perfectly shaped ovals before pushing them into a high-powered oven. “Thank you for the bread, by the way.” 

“I didn’ want to send you away empty-handed. My mum taught me better.” Alfie peeked down at the tiny woman trying to keep up with his long steps. Her boots echoed up to the high ceilings. He rarely had women, especially well-dressed women, walking the floors of his buildings. 

Evelyn was happy to finally get some personal information from the man. He had a mother. That’s something, right? Well, technically everyone has a mother. He used the present tense, so she must still be alive. 

“You’re lookin’ rather dressed up just to see me.” Alfie weaved them to the back of the building, past the barrels of rum that got her in this mess just a week ago. 

She sure as hell wasn’t complaining about it. 

“This is a business meeting, isn’t it? I wanted to dress the part.” 

“I’m fuckin’ glad you did. Much easier on the eyes than Ollie, here.” The man who brought Evelyn the sack of bread yesterday stood in front of Alfie’s office door with a clipboard in hand. In the dark of the night, she hadn't had the opportunity to look at him in depth. She assumed he was young, based on the boyish features and awkward build. But the more she looked at him, his glasses sitting atop the bridge of his nose, she realized he probably wasn’t much younger than Alfie. Ollie dressed nicely, so she could assume that his boss paid the man well.

“Ollie, I’d like you to officially meet the bird I made you chase after last weekend.” Alfie's voice boomed across the gruff noises of the factory. She watched as Ollie took the time to eye her up and down. She could only imagine the thoughts running through his head, an imposter in a posh getup. He just smiled, wrinkles forming in the corners of his eyes. He seemed genuine. “This is Evelyn, she’s becomin’ an associate of mine. Evelyn, this is my right-hand man, Ollie. If you ever need anythin’ and you can’t reach me, he’s the one to go to. Not anythin’ dangerous, though. Don’ want Ollie pissin’ himself again.” 

“I told you, I spilt water on my- it doesn’t matter. A pleasure, Miss Evelyn.” Ollie reached his hand out and promptly shook it before turning his attention back to his boss. “Sir, we’re still awaiting contact from New York on where to ship the…” The young man paused, glancing at Evelyn as to not reveal the poorly kept secret about liquor. 

“Rum,” Evelyn interrupted. 

“It’s alrigh’ mate, Evie knows all about our business.” Alfie slapped Ollie on the shoulder a little harder than the lanky man could take, but his face remained stoic. Evelyn, on the other hand, was having all kinds of heat flowing to her cheeks at the sound of her shortened name. She always hated when Moses called her that, correcting him time and time again until he stopped. She thought “Evie” made her sound like a child with no means to take care of herself.

But when it came from Alfie’s lips… she began to change her mind. Perhaps she’d allow him to say that, especially if it makes her blush like a child with a schoolyard crush. 

“Fuck off, Ollie. I’ve got shit to do.” Alfie nodded towards the office and Ollie dutifully agreed, going about his tasks of giving commands to those ranking below him. “Follow me, luv.” Alfie guided Evelyn to his office. She noticed it looked much less foreboding with the lights on. The door opened with a creak, bathed in the warm light emitted from a tall lamp in the corner. 

The desk looked just as Evelyn remembered it. Littered with papers, but shinier than pottery glaze. She took her seat at the chair across from his own. This time she was more comfortable in his presence, letting her body melt into the hard wood and crossing one ankle over the other. She looked like a perfect socialite. 

“So, are we going to discuss what will happen at the races?” she asked, trying to politely pry some answers out of him. Even if she didn’t want to admit it, the thought of going to the races excited her. She had overheard many conversations from men at the pub and on the streets sounding like children in their anticipation. 

“Not today,” he replied, sitting into his own chair and moving some papers around. “You know anythin’ about New York gangs, luv?” 

“I steal bread, Mr. Solomons. I don’t think that quite pays for a voyage overseas.” 

“Worth a shot, yeah?” He put the papers on his desk and pushed them to the side, giving Evelyn his full attention. Her heart jumped when his hazel irises met her own chocolate ones. “Call me Alfie, by the way. I only make the people I fuckin’ hate call me Mr. Solomons.”

“So you don’t hate me then,” she said, lips lifting into a small smile.

“Far from it, little one.” That was good to note. The less he hated her, the more leeway she had to enjoy his company. His stare held the weight of a thousand barrels of rum sitting on her chest. She reveled in it. “Tell me more about yourself.” 

“Not much to tell.” Evelyn shrugged, deeply wishing this conversation could pass over like an evaporating rainstorm. Her personal life was shared with none except those who lived with her. 

“I doubt that, luv. How long have you lived in Camden?” 

“My whole life.” 

“How many years might that be?” 

“Twenty-four.” 

“You’re young.” 

“And you’re old, yet here I am.” Alfie chuckled at her. She was a breath of fresh air in this stifling world he lived in. 

“Who taught you to be so fuckin’ cheeky? I swear, your balls are bigger than half the men workin’ out there.” He nodded towards the door, and Evelyn believed him. She seemed to have some leeway to bantar with Alfie that he probably didn’t allow from anyone else. 

“It’s a god-given gift.” She tilted her head, words escaping her lips in a teasing manner. She never went to school because her mother taught her how to read and write. She suspected that because she had no teachers to enforce proper manners, her behavior mirrored her mother’s rebellious attitude. 

“Are you religious?” Alfie was curious, because his mother raised him in the traditional Jewish faith. He followed it, more often than not. Of course, the whole ‘kill your enemies’ was never taught in the Torah but he always seemed to find moral reasoning to do so. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

Evelyn took a deep breath and tried not to roll her eyes. “Because my mother used to say ‘why worship a god who failed us,’ so I never saw the appeal.” 

“That’s a shame.” His brows drew together. 

“Can you have a non-Jew working in your ranks, Alfie?” She surveyed his face, looking for any indicators of displeasure. This area, especially the men, took great importance in religion. She only hoped it wouldn’t end their friendship before it even began. 

“You’ve broken every other rule, why stop now.” Alfie leaned back into his chair. The corners of his mouth turned into a smile at the sight of Evelyn’s flushed skin. Her eyes zeroed in on the muscles flexing in his strong forearms, wishing she could shelter behind their protective cage. She regained her composure, batting her lashes. 

“You? A rule-breaker? I thought you were a law-abiding member of this town, Mr. Solomons. Does your mother know about your business?” 

“For your information, she does. And she’s not one to argue when it funds the lavish lifestyle she’s been enjoyin’ for many years now.” 

“And might you be funding anyone else’s lifestyle?” The words slipped out before she could catch them. It’s not like she was purposefully trying to be nosy, but her brain was dying to know of any competition for his attention. She was a greedy one, after all. 

“As a matter of fact, I am.” Evelyn kept the disappointment from her face even when her body went stiff. She didn’t know exactly why she felt the crushing weight of defeat enter her muscles. She had absolutely no right to think so, after only having one conversation with this man. Yet, there it was. Sadness. Alfie must have seen a glimpse of discouragement mar her otherwise neutral expression and cut in before the damage was irreversible. “My dog, Cyril. Expensive bastard, he is. Only eats what I eat.” 

The peek of a smile curved upward on her face. A dog. A fucking dog. That was her competition. 

She felt like a fool. 

“A lucky pup, he must be. To have you.” 

“That ole’ mutt might be higher maintenance than most, but he’s mine. Probably taller than you, come to think of it.”

“That’s not too hard a feat.”

“You could slap a saddle on him and ride through town.”

Evely giggled, eyes lighting up with amusement. Alfie found it delightful, a sound he wanted stuck inside his head for the rest of the day. “Speaking of saddles, are we going to discuss the reason you brought me in here?” 

“I’d rather just look at you, if we’re bein’ honest.” The words send a flush of blood to Evelyn’s cheeks. 

“As much as I’d enjoy being gawked at like a statue, I was told there was a reason for my visit.” 

“Other plans, today?” 

“No, Sir. I’m just not one to dawdle.” 

“You’re very different from other women.” Alfie’s words had Evelyn shifting in her chair, the knife attached to her thigh pressing harder into her skin almost like it was emphasizing his very point. 

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“No, luv. Much the opposite, actually.” 

“If I’m so different, why would you invite me to the races? I’m sure there are many women more… adept at societal niceties than I.” 

“Fuck niceties. Those women would rather pull their eyelashes out one-by-one than do anything deemed ‘inappropriate’ by their mothers.” 

“I assume being in your mere presence is enough to set them off,” she said, partly teasing but internally hiding a semblance of truth. Alfie may have had the respect of the town, but that doesn’t always equate to acceptance in the higher circles. 

“You sayin’ I’m inappropriate?” He squinted his eyes at her, trying to focus on her words more than her supple, red lips. 

Evelyn’s eyes flashed with fearlessness. “Just calling a spade a spade.” 

“You haven’t run for the hills yet.”

“Me? I’m waiting for you to do the very same.” 

Alfie titled forward in his chair, his mouth twitching like he had a secret. “Not a chance, luv.”

The air crackled with tension. Evelyn felt as though there was a cable slowly pulling her closer with every word that came from his vexing mouth. Everything was moving so fast and she had yet to decide if she liked it that way. Around him, her verbal filter seemed to be rendered useless. He could disarm her with one look. 

She had to gain back control of the conversation. 

“If we’re not talking about the races, then why am I here? Surely not just so you can enjoy my company.” She raised a brow. After a few seconds, Alfie nodded. 

“I have a test for you.”

“A test?” 

“Yes, I need to see what kind of skills lay beneath such a mouthy beauty.” This time Evelyn couldn’t contain her eyes as they rolled dramatically. He very well knew what she was capable of, but didn’t seem to believe it because he hadn’t seen her in action. Alfie’s eyes bore into her. “I can handle attitude, but don’ roll those pretty eyes at me, little one.” 

Evelyn didn’t know why his choice term of endearment made her squirm in her seat. Little one. The words felt like a cold breeze on a hot summer day. Someone as independent and self-reliant as herself shouldn’t react positively to the term… right? 

“Let’s go for a walk, yeah?” Alfie stood from his seat and walked around the desk. Evelyn sat motionless, desperately trying not to clench her thighs together so obviously for any kind of friction. He looked down at her for a moment through hooded eyes that made her heart skip a beat. He reached down and grasped around her upper arm. It was a delicate hold, but firm enough to fill her with a heat that she didn’t know existed. Her eyes snapped up and locked with his in a battle she knew he would win. Evelyn let him pull her up, loving the feeling of his hand touching any part of her body. 

Alfie’s movements were calculating. He had a motive behind every action, and this instance was no different. For the past few days, his mind had never strayed far from the tiny being that spewed such bold words from her perfect lips. In truth, people rarely caught his attention, especially women. So when that foreign twinge in his gut told him this one was special, he sure as hell wasn’t going to argue. 

He wanted to leave this up to her, though. Even though he had an inkling that she would return, he couldn't be sure. Alfie had no idea where she lived or how he could track her down. Evelyn coming back gave him reason to believe that she felt that same tugging to be near each other, to challenge one another. 

She was a living contradiction of sweet and daring, demure and fearless. He’d never seen anyone like it. Romance was never a priority in his world. He viewed it more as a weakness than anything else. 

But she was different. He couldn’t quite put into words how but he didn’t need to. 

Alfie had given her ample time to pull away from his light grip, and he would have let her. He may have been a hardened man, but he wasn’t a cruel one. Yet, she remained, still and silent, soaking in his touch like dry sand beneath a storm cloud. It was like a mutual acknowledgment of a spark buried beneath their shielded minds. 

Too soon did he remove it, though, guiding her out of the door and back through the tireless workers going about their daily tasks. They walked to the side entrance, their footsteps drowned out by the overpowering mechanical sounds that hung in the air. It opened with it’s usual creak and Alfie held it wide for her to pass through. Outside stood two large, imposing guards that just nodded at Alfie and let both of them through. 

Evelyn was slightly confused at why there were two people standing watch instead of the usual one. Her face must have given away her question, because Alfie answered for her. 

“Had to add security since apparently someone was able to sneak in that door too easily for my liking.” 

Evelyn smirked at his tone. “Well that’s no fun.” 

“For a troublemaker like you? No.” Evelyn followed him through the alley. Her shoes splashed against the shallow puddles of the pavement. He walked with a purpose that apparently he wasn't planning on enlightening her with. She followed curiously, her gut instinct not giving any indication to do otherwise.

“Where are we going?” 

“Somewhere,” he replied, looking down at her from the corner of his eye. Her childlike curiosity tickled something deep within him, as though someone just turned the gas up on an oven of his deepest desires. His lips curled up a smidge as a pout settled on her face. 

“Why can’t you tell me?” 

“Because you’ll find out soon enough, little one.” 

The clouds parted to reveal a muddled sun slowly stretching its rays across the city. The brightness drew out crowds of people enjoying the warmth against their cheeks, even if their bodies were wrapped in coats to protect against the chill. Evelyn couldn’t take her eyes off the man walking next to her with steps slightly in front of her own. She was fascinated watching Alfie amongst the regular residents of Camden. He was like a lion let loose from a circus cage, prowling the sidewalks of the city looking for his next target. She felt safe, knowing his aura of intensity was not directed towards her. 

The moment people recognized his features, they swerved out of his way on instinct. The beard was a dead giveaway, with his brooding eyes a close second. Alfie was never one to socialize with the inhabitants of the city. He kept to himself, and his business, for a majority of his time. Aside from the occasional visit to the synagogue in order to appease his religious mother, the man had no interest in others. He saw people as… boring.

Well, all except for her. 

Evelyn could only imagine what she looked like beside him. His presence alone swallowed her up like a raindrop in the ocean. Curious and concerned gazes followed their figures as he barreled through a crowd of people, gripping her elbow lightly to make sure she didn’t fall behind or get blocked. She enjoyed the feeling of being led, allowing her control to slip and give way to blissful obedience for the first time in her life. 

The walk was quiet, filled only by the murmurs and overheard voices of those around them. The silence, surprisingly, wasn’t awkward in the least. She enjoyed the peacefulness of his companionship. 

At last Alfie turned a corner down a quiet street filled with small stores beneath buildings of flats. A few individuals meandered around the neatly swept sidewalk, but it was otherwise empty. He stopped her in front of a brick building, twisting her body lightly so she knew what she was looking at. 

Evelyn looked at the painted letters on the glass windows. 

“Why are we at a barristers office?” Her eyes flitted to Alfie’s, whose face remained forward-facing. She turned her head again, noticing the lack of light and movement behind the doors. 

“They have some important documents regardin’ my business practices.” 

Evelyn scrunched her brows together. “Are these good or bad documents.” 

“Both,” he replied, his voice gruff. “Good for them, bad for me.” 

“I see,” she said, trepidation heavy in her voice. These documents must have incriminating evidence against her employer.

Employer. 

She bit back distaste from allowing that term to enter her head. As much as she wished this entire situation was more than a thief repaying her debts, she supposed that’s how she should handle the situation. Clinical and emotionless left no room for feelings. 

“I need you to break in and take them.” She turned her head like a whip at the sound of his words. He finally met her eyes, challenging her to snap back when he knew she had no grounds to do so. 

“This is the test?” 

“That it is, luv.” 

“You can’t do it yourself?”

“What’s the fuckin’ point of that, then? A test wouldn’ be a fuckin’ test if I did it myself, yeah?” Evelyn’s only response was to roll her eyes and turn her head. But halfway through the action, she felt his tantalizingly rough hands grip her chin and force her gaze back on him. “What’d I say about rollin’ those eyes at me, luv?” His hold relented but his stare bore through her like light through paper. 

“Yes, Sir,” she replied. She urged herself not to bite her lip or give any indication that his command made her thighs press together. The way his pupils dilated into pure black orbs only intensified the feeling. He released her and took a step back. 

“The documents should be filed somewhere, those neat pricks wouldn’t leave anythin’ lyin’ about. Check some of the other files just in case they tried to be sneaky little shits.” 

Evelyn felt ansty in her shoes. She realized no matter how expensive the clothes she wore, her instincts will always lean towards the sketchy skills in life. At first glance, the door looked easy enough to pick with the pins she stuck next to her ankles. “Are you coming in?” 

Alfie chuckled. “I need to see if you can handle this on your own. The races are comin’ up soon. I need to know I can count on you to operate on your own. This is fuckin’ easy compared to what’ll come. I have a suspicion that you’ll do just fine, though.” He snuck his hands into the pockets of his coat, pulling a loose cigarette from one and lighting it with a match. After taking his first drag, he lifted the cigarette from his pink lips and pointed at her with it. “If you’re not out by the time I’m finished with my third one of these, considered the test failed.” 

Evelyn nodded in acknowledgement. She had this need to show her capabilities, a yearning deep within to prove that she’s worth his time and energy. Someone with such dominant energy as him had the power to draw her in while also pulling something out of her that was buried beneath years of survival. 

“Your time’s already started, luv. Best get goin’,” he said, casually taking another breath of nicotine into his lungs. 

She hastened forward, pulling a bobby-pin from her boot and swiftly maneuvering the lock into submission. After a few seconds of putting her ear to the door and listening for that familiar sound, it clicked and gave way to her skillful hands. She pulled the door open and peeked her head inside to make sure the place was completely empty and void of workers. Before completely disappearing into the darkness, she craned her neck back towards Alfie.

He lifted his eyebrow, nodding with a slight smirk tugging on his lips encouragingly. With that, she creeped in and pulled the door behind her. Her heart thrummed in her chest, an anxious excitement bouncing through her nerves. This was her element. Alfie may be good at managing his business, but this just happened to be her strongpoint. She wondered if he was watching her through the glass panes.

The air was musty, almost like a window hadn’t been opened in years. The chill in the air was more palpable without access to the little bit of sun outside. She could see the dust floating around the rays of light that seeped through the window.

Desks were stationed across the scratchy carpet. The room wasn’t big, just enough space for some furniture and file cabinets. Pens were neatly stored in holders at the corner of the desks. 

She diverted her attention to the cabinets at the back. The rusty steel of the drawers wretched out of their hold with a loud squeak that reverberated through the shop. She looked out to Alfie, only seeing the bottom half of his tall figure tapping some ash from his dying cigarette. Time always moved faster when it hung over your head. 

Evelyn’s nimble fingers pulled the edges of the alphabetical files until she got to the “S” section. Most of the files were thin but there, of course, was one noticeably thick stack towards the end. 

SOLOMONS

“Why am I surprised?” she asked herself, using her arms to lift the files from the drawer. She should have guessed his infractions were exceedingly more than any others in the office. “Bloody hell,” she muttered, trying to carry the stack with too much effort. She didn’t remember signing up for manual labor. 

Looking out the window again, she saw him peek down and wave a newly-lit cigarette in the air. At the rate he was smoking, she didn’t have much time left. Evelyn responded to him with a lady-like lift of the middle finger. 

The papers dropped to the desk with a resounding thump. He must have some shady business practices to have a file thicker than the fucking bible. How long had he been in the underground world for? Of course, everyone was aware of his name. He was more like an omniscient presence or urban legend in Camden until she had finally laid eyes on him. 

The file was worn and colored with age, no doubt from the long history of indiscretions in Alfie’s industry. The opening page held logistical information, addresses, business dates and accumulated profit from years of surveillance. Apparently Alfie has been on their radar for years, though she was sure he knew that already. Handwritten notes with dates of money transfers littered the pages.

She flipped through some more and came across client lists and shipping addresses for New York and Boston. Of course, Alfie wasn’t idiotic. The shipping invoices were listed for either “white bread” or “brown bread.” Though everyone with a brain would know what “bread” was referencing to. 

The more she looked through, the more she realized just how much information was stored on these pages. She could easily steal this for herself, stuff some papers in her coat pocket and use them as blackmail.

Even the thought of that tasted sour on her tongue. 

The rest of the stack was more of the same: invoices, client lists and shipping addresses for the “bread” that was demanded across England and the east coast of America dating back a few years. It almost made her giggle, thinking of Alfie packing up loaves of bread and trying to smuggle it out of Camden. 

Time was running out, so she grabbed the stack of files and pulled them up to her chest. The movement shook some papers loose and had them floating to the ground. 

“Shit,” she said under her breath. She dropped to the floor and gathered the scattered sheets. The carpet fibers dug into her knees even through the nylon of her stockings. She could feel her inner clock ticking away, screaming at her to hurry up and leave. She gathered the final invoice, something from last November by the looks of it, and stood back up. 

She took a step towards the door and heard a soft wrinkle beneath her boot. Her hands were already full with papers but she leaned down to get a closer look. The sheet was torn, and looked blank until she squinted her eyes and noticed the elegant cursive script written hastily across the page. It was too far away to understand the letters, though it was obviously written by someone with a training in scriptwriting. 

Carefully balancing the papers on her knee, Evelyn leaned down and snatched the small piece from the floor. 

It looked like a name… something short. It started with an “R” and rambled off into an intricate scratch of ink. There was an address beneath, somewhere in London. Probably on one of those nice tree-lined streets that she was never allowed on. She needed her glasses to read any more of it. 

Before she could spend too much time contemplating the little scrap of paper, the door to the office flew open with a shuttering bang that shook the photographs on the gaudy wallpaper. Her head snapped up at the sound. She felt her neck muscles groan at the fast movement. Her eyes expected Alfie, but was incredibly disappointed when the figure approaching her was someone else completely. A ripple of fear invaded her nerves and kindled the ever-present reflex of panic that she never fully turned off. 

“Who the bloody hell are you, trespassing on my property?” His posh accent mingled raucously with the evident anger spitting from between his teeth. He was a rather round fellow who seemed to make up for his lack of height with an overbearingly awful haze of bad breath that she could detect from meters away. His footsteps would have no doubt shaken the floor had it not been for the cushioning of the carpet. 

The man practically bowled her over at the speed of his short strides. She could only imagine the wrinkles that would plague his pristine trousers later in the day. He emanated money in a pretentious manner common in London. Everything he wore screamed wealth, from his gold pocket watch to his engraved silver cufflinks. All-in-all, even in her fanciest dress, Evelyn was still made to feel inferior. 

She started to back up but he grabbed her upper arm aggressively, more than likely leaving angry, red marks that she’d have to explain to Moses later. His grip felt slimy, even through the thick fabric of her coat. She glanced at the window looking for Alfie’s figure. 

He was gone. 

He left her here, all alone. 

She wanted to cry. And then scream at the top of her lungs. 

“Answer me, girl!” the man yelled. His breath smelt even worse up close. She turned away enough so she could breath properly. Panic penetrated her lungs and made it hard to speak. “Who the bloody hell are you?” 

Evelyn remained silent. She kept her composure, even though her eyes widened with dread. Silence, she had learned, could be just as disarming as a weapon. 

“Who do you work for?” he asked, his voice becoming more and more forceful the longer she refused to answer. He repeated the question again, only to receive a glare. She could imagine him bringing her to the coppers, to which she’d explain that nothing was stolen, bat her lashes and look as small as could be. Usually that tactic worked and had her back on the streets within a day. No doubt she would march to Alfie’s office afterwards and give him a piece of her mind, dangerous or not. 

The grip around her arm tightened uncomfortably. She could feel the indent of the paper’s edges in her palms as she held onto them like an anchor. The closer he got to breathing on her, the less inclined she was to be cordial. “I suggest you answer me, girl. Or you won’t like the consequences.” 

“I suggest you let her go, mate. I can do a lot worse to you.” Evelyn could feel his nearness behind her. Alfie’s voice rang out to her like a spark in a pitch-black forest. Her shoulders released a smidge of tension as the grip around her arm loosened under the pressure of Alfie’s stare. 

“Mr. Solomons, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I’d like to tell you, but I find myself getting increasingly angry with your hold on my associate here.” Evelyn swung her gaze around and met Alfie’s hardened gaze, which softened just a touch when he saw that, aside from the clammy hand around her arm, she was okay. The round man seemed to recognize his mistake and promptly released Evelyn from his hold. She awkwardly stood between them, still holding onto the stack of papers she had apparently done a very bad job of stealing. 

“Mr. Solomons, is there a reason your associate is stealing from our office?” 

Evelyn’s eyes went wide. “Our?” Her thoughts were a mix between confused and pissed. She gaped at both men before settling on Alfie. “What does he mean? Do you own this place?” 

Alfie flicked his shoulders up. “I own a lot of places.” 

Evelyn opened her mouth only to close it once more. It looked as though the man next to her was just as confused as she was. What on earth was Alfie getting at? 

“How’d you get in?” she asked, just then realizing that she hadn’t seen him trounce through the front door. 

“Through the back.”

“There’s a back?”

“And a key,” he said, waving it in the air like it was some obvious information she should have known. 

“Then why in the bloody hell would you have me break in?” Evelyn could feel her ears turning red with bottled-up rage. He really did everything to push her buttons like she was an amusement to him. 

“The test, luv.” 

“Fuckin’ test,” she mumbled under her breath. Alfie simply grinned at her. She had half a thought to throw the papers in her arms directly at his form leaning against the doorframe. At the worst, he’ll have a few stinging paper cuts to deal with. “So this entire file on your business-”

“Just records to keep track of everything.” 

“You own this building?” 

“Yes.”

“And you let me get caught?”

“Chaim takes lunch at the same time everyday. I had to know what you would do if you were to get caught. I’m pleased to know you don’t squeal like a pig and rat on your boss.”

She pointed to the unnamed man. “And this is your…”

“Account man. He makes sure all the numbers add up.”

“But the sign says ‘Barristers’ on the front.”

“Exactly. Who would think Alfie Solomons owned a barristers office? No one.” 

“So it’s a disguise, then?”

“Chaim is technically a barrister. He’s just good with numbers. That's what I pay him to do. If anyone were to walk in here looking for actual legal advice, Chaim nicely sends them on their merry way, none the wiser.”

“What about all the other files?” When Evelyn had hastily fingered through the drawer, she’d seen at least thirty files organized in alphabetical order. 

“Go check.” 

Evelyn moved back to the file drawer and pulled one at random. She opened it, only to find blank pages. All of them, completely void of information. 

“Quite an elaborate ruse, is it not?” she asked, speaking more to herself than Alfie. 

“And fuckin’ necessary, at that.”

“Why?” She put the files back in the drawer and returned back to Alfie. 

“Imagine I get caught. The first thing the coppers will look for is my files. They need evidence of criminal activity. No one would ever think to look here, which would give Chaim some extra time to dispose of everythin’ accordingly.” 

Evelyn was dumbfounded. She couldn’t begin to comprehend the layers of secrets and precautions that allowed Alfie to run a business such as his. She had underestimated him, to say the least. 

“Not as daft as I look, yeah?” Alfie hooked his fingers on the elastic of his suspenders. A smug smile graced his face. Evelyn didn’t know whether to be annoyed or impressed. 

Probably both. 

The round man, whom she now identified as Chaim, was behind her, still gloriously confused by the scene in front of him. “Mr. Solomons?” 

Alfie walked further into the room and stopped next to Evelyn, who had since paused her angry fidgeting. “Chaim, this is Evelyn. She’ll be working with us more closely in the coming’ months, so don’ accost her when she comes through that door.” Chaim simply nodded, his hands twisting anxiously at his side. Knowing Alfie, she was sure Chaim had encountered the many moods of their employer. 

“If I may, Sir,” Chaim said, raising his finger just slightly higher than his other hand. He looked like a nervous child asking a question during a lesson. “Why are you having associates breaking into our office?” 

Alfie stepped just a little closer to Evelyn’s figure. She could sense the amber musk mixed with a smidge of nicotine. She wanted to dive into a field of his essence so she could smell him all around her. His hand found its place in the small of her back, splaying his fingers across her clothed skin. She wished she could feel the heat of his touch on her bare skin. “Evelyn is practicing for an important task.”

“And you chose my office to do so.” Chaim’s frustration was barely noticeable beneath his modish exterior, but Evelyn could see the anger radiating beneath his skin. 

“I felt our office was a perfect choice.” 

Evelyn shifted the papers in her arms, which have gotten increasingly heavy the longer she held them. Her muscles were aching with the pressure of the large file. Alfie seemed to notice her struggle and swiftly took the stack from her arms. He peeked through the papers himself, glancing at the words. “Find anything interesting?” 

Evelyn rubbed her arms to regain some blood flow. “Nothing too glaringly out of sorts. Invoices, addresses and so on.” Alfie nodded thoughtfully, eyes quickly glancing at Chaim as the barrister shuffled to the door to inspect the damage on the lock. Evelyn watched as he leaned down and spoke in a lower tone that Chaim wouldn’t be able to hear. 

“You trust him?” he asked, drawing his brows together. At first Evelyn thought he was teasing her. Why would he ask her opinion? But the longer his eyes bore into her own, the more she realized that he genuinely wanted her thoughts on the matter. It kindled a warmth in her body knowing that he trusted her, to an extent. 

“Hard to say,” she replied, volume staying low. “The invoices had no large discrepancies in cost so I doubt he’s skimming profit from the top. The dates of the shipments lined up with dates of payment. Do you have any reason not to trust him?” 

“Just somethin’ I can’t put my finger on.” 

Evelyn suddenly remembered the torn piece of paper she had hastily shoved into her pocket when Chaim first walked through the door. She reached in and found it crumpled but still readable. Glancing to the front to make sure Chaim was still occupied, she gripped the flimsy note and transferred it from her pocket and into Alfie’s. His face had a hint of surprise at the action. He clearly wasn’t expecting her to slip her dainty hand into his pants. 

She did so quickly, feeling the soft material on her fingertips. His thigh muscles were taut and strained against the fabric in a way that caused a shiver of appreciation to run through Evelyn. It was yet another reminder of his strength. At first, she didn’t understand why that would appeal to her. 

Well, she did understand but was almost ashamed to admit it. Alfie made her feel protected, even if she wanted to argue that she could protect herself. 

“You should look at that when you’re alone,” she whispered. The hot air of her breath tickled the sensitive skin on his cheek. “It could be something. It was snuck between papers from years ago. So it’s either old and relatively meaningless…”

“Or he was trying to hide it.” 

“Exactly.” 

“Good work.” Evelyn blushed beneath the small praise. She tried to hide it behind her curls, but Alfie still saw. She looked so young and innocent when her face was flushed. 

He wanted to see where else her skin turned pink. 

Alfie turned his attention to the barrister fiddling with the doorknob. The lock would need to be replaced but it was otherwise alright. Alfie would send someone in the morning. “We’ll get out of your way, Chaim.” 

The older man looked up from the broken lock at the sound of his name. “Out the back door, preferably.” 

Evelyn shook her head, reminded of the fact that there was a back door to begin with. “I can’t believe you had me break in when you have a perfectly good set of keys.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

She couldn’t argue that point. It was practically her life motto. 

“Oh, Mr. Solomons,” Chaim yelled from behind them. “Please make sure she uses a key next time. And let me know in advance of your arrival, I don’t do well with uninformed visits.” 

Just another reason for her to distrust the so-called “barrister” of the company. Surprises were never good for someone with secrets. She glanced at Alfie who seemed to be thinking the same exact thing. 

They walked out the back together, Alfie putting his hand in his pocket to make sure the paper was tucked neatly inside.   
The alley behind the office was much like the one on the side of the factory, without the security. A burst of cold air flew across her face as soon as Alfie opened the door. He motioned for her to walk ahead of him. 

Always the gentleman, she thought to herself. It was a refreshing change from the heathentistic snobbery of the men who disguised their misogynistic morals with an abundance of money. 

“Based on your terms, it seems as though I failed your little task.” 

“I disagree.” 

Evelyn’s steps faltered in confusion. “I was caught.” 

“That wasn’ the point. I wanted to see if I could trust you. Chaim has been on my radar for a while, but you wouldn’ have known that.” 

“I suppose. I still think you’re putting too much trust in me. I can easily go to the coppers with all the information you’ve exposed me to.” 

“You won’t.” 

“So sure of yourself?” she asked, turning away from him to escape back to the main avenue. Instead, she felt his hand snake around her waist and pull her body towards his. He spun her around, placing his hand behind her head and pushing her gently into the wall. His hold cushioned her from the hatch surface, though she was still reeling over the motion to begin with. His breath fanned against her lashes and grazed her cheeks. His arm caged her in. 

“I’m sure of many things, little one. I’m sure that you won’t go running to anyone because you’re too interested in livin’ with a little more thrill. I’m sure that you crave the feelin’ of adrenaline rushing through your veins more than you do air in your lungs. And I’m sure, without a doubt, that if I slid my hand under your dress right now, you’d be fuckin’ soaked through your knickers.” 

A small whimper passed through her lips and directly to his cock. She opened her eyes to notice his kissable mouth was mere inches from her own. Her body was all but begging her to melt into his embrace like molten chocolate over a soft flame. She was a breath away from losing herself to his unyielding essence. She needed to regain control. 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” she replied. She watched his eyes falter, uncertainty seeping into his confident visage. She wanted to grab his face and kiss it away. Instead, she simply slapped on an inviting smirk and licked her bottom lip. She leaned in and whispered softly in his ear. “My knickers couldn’t possibly be wet, because I’m not wearing any.” The words circled in his head before finally landing on their meaning. 

Evelyn had finally rendered Mr. Solomons speechless. 

She couldn’t give in just yet. The lustful, yearning voice in her head implored her to forget the world and beg to be his. For even just a moment. The feeling was overwhelming and indescribable. For once in her life, she wanted to make a decision based on her wants. Her entire life had been based on survival instincts, the very basics that kept her alive. Her mother had always taught that a woman can want a man, but should never need one. Unlike most women her age, she wasn’t dying to get her hands on a man. She never saw the need. 

But Alfie. Alfie…

He ignited something much deeper. A core instinct that surpassed her others. It was like a never-ending thirst that couldn’t be quenched unless she was around him. 

He made her feel wanted. 

But that nagging voice in the back of her head made her hesitate. It was like a massive caution barricade that only served to protect herself. She didn’t know what she wanted, aside from him. She just needed to get through the horse race and bide her time. Alfie was surprisingly forthcoming, but he had more to spare than she did. He had a life that she couldn’t imagine. 

Alfie could ruin her. 

Evelyn could be patient. She only knew a smidgen of his life, the small glimpses of interactions that spoke towards his intelligence. 

She knew Alfie was a man, but she needed to wait and see exactly what kind. 

“I assume I’ll meet you at the bakery on race day?” she asked, sidestepping his grasp and sneakily taking a breath of air to try and get her thoughts sorted. He dug into his pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. 

“I’ll pick you up.” 

Absolutely not. Appearances never really mattered to her but the idea of Alfie seeing the dilapidated shack of wood where she resided, she just might die of embarrassment. Not to mention there was a chance that Moses would be there, and Evelyn didn’t want to give Alfie the wrong idea. 

“No need, I quite enjoy walking across town. The fresh air clears my mind.” 

“What could possibly be plaguing that mind of yours?” 

Evelyn made her way to the edge of the alley. “You have no idea,” she said over her shoulder. “See you in a few days, Alfie.” 

“Till then, luv. Try and stay out of trouble, yeah?” 

Evelyn simply winked, a sly grin reaching to her sparkling eyes. “We’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So??? I promise I won’t tease y’all for much longer cause the tension between Alf and Ev is slowly killing me. 
> 
> Thoughts? Suggestions? I’m up for anything (and so are they ;)


	5. On to the Races

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfie and Evie take an interesting drive to the races, with an unexpected stop on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’M BACK. So sorry for the wait everyone. I could never forget my favorite gang leader. Not a super long chapter but hopefully enough to hold you over.

The fog was thick, thick enough for Evelyn to breathe and feel it invade her lungs like the intoxicating scent of cigars in a poker room. Days like these made most people stay inside, sheltering beneath the roofs paid for by the labor of someone more deserving. 

She liked hazy days the most. It was like she had the entire city to herself, no one around. Even if they were, the fog was too thick for her to see them. They were mere shadows passing from one plane of existence to another.

It was her happy place. Well, it had been her until she realized she would much rather be in the arms of a man who seems to want to keep her close. She wasn’t naive. She knew that Alfie’s interest in her grew the more she evaded his unrelenting grasp. Their desire closed around her willpower each time she was near him. 

Did that make her stop? 

Absolutely not. 

Alfie peaked her interest more than anyone she had met. His gruff language and manner of speaking drastically differed from the men of her daily encounters around Camden. She’d be willing to bet he’d say the same exact thing about her. 

The click of her heels on the uneven stone of the sidewalk mixed ominously with the silence muddled by haze. She felt as though she could shout and her voice would echo back, the audible interpretation of two mirrors facing one another. 

Somewhere above her the midday sun was bearing down through the clouds, shrouding the city in obscurity. Alfie was adamant she be on time to the bakery so they could drive out to the country and make it to the races with minutes to spare. 

She still had half a thought that Alfie didn’t actually have a “mission” for her to execute and just wanted to steal her time to stroke his own inflated ego. Whatever the case, she didn’t have the heart to be annoyed. Alfie challenged her in a way that other men didn’t. Most treated her like a child while the others saw her as a walking cunt waiting to be fucked. That’s not to say that Alfie didn’t want to fuck her. 

She could see it in his eyes, the way his pupils darkened when she sucked her bottom lip between her pearly teeth. His fingers twitched when she smoothed out the wrinkles that gathered along her waist, angry that he wasn’t the one caressing the soft fabric down her hips. 

The thought propelled her forward even faster. 

Her spine tingled with anticipation. Evelyn felt like she was about to see Alfie in the wild, stalking his prey like a famished tiger at the peak of testosterone. She had witnessed his formality at the bakery, and his forceful tone at the barrister’s office. Today, though, she would see him attack. She just knew it. 

It was frightening to her. Not the idea of Alfie protecting his territory as the Alpha of Camden Town; no, she was scared by her excitement. She was terrified by the way that her knickers were soaked at the image of his forearms pressing an enemy against the wall by their throat. 

She had seen things in her life that she wished could be erased from her memory like footprints in a desert. Picturing Alfie in those thoughts… changed them. 

Long ago she watched someone get shot in cold blood on the floor of her mother’s factory. The man was young and had made a careless mistake, letting a furnace build to the point of threatening the other workers. The foreman simply took out a pistol and shot him dead. When the constable came, he claimed the shooting as a “greater good for the safety of the other workers.” That was only the first of many times that Evelyn has witnessed death. She clutched at her mother’s skirts, gagging at the sight of fresh blood weeping onto the dirty, concrete floor. 

But if it were Alfie doing the killing, it was suddenly rationalized. She imagined him, suspenders taunt on his chest as he raised the pistol and let the bullet fly out without so much as a blink. Of course he would have had a good reason. She would stand behind him no matter what. That’s what made her skin crawl with exciting dread. 

It made her feel alive. 

She looked up and saw the formidable stacks of bakery beyond the thick smog beckoning her forward. 

Though she would never admit it aloud, Evelyn fed off of feeling vulnerable. She wasn’t helpless, nor scared. She believed vulnerability was heavily influenced by the unknown of the future. That twinge of excitement when you turn a corner not knowing who, or what, was on the other side. 

It was like wading above the surface in open water, knowing that something was lurking beneath her, friend or foe. 

Her entire life, she’d hung off the ledge of uncertainty. Feeling vulnerable… that was a luxury. One that Alfie gave her. 

“Are you just standin’ there for the rest of the fuckin’ day? As much as I’d love to watch you all dressed up for me, we’ve got a drive ahead of us.” 

Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear. 

The haze cleared around her and suddenly Alfie was there in all his glory. His aura charged at the fog and pushed it back like a wave of soldiers storming the front. She couldn’t hold back her grin. 

“Alfie,” she greeted him, nodding her head and taking careful steps across the stones beneath her feet. His frame was leaned against the front door of an expensive vehicle. The wheels were nearly as tall as her. 

“Little one,” he replied, his own smirk accentuating the dimples in his cheeks, just at the edge of his beard. 

He loved the way Evelyn’s face would flush with a faint pink whenever he used the nickname. Her innocence, though buried, shone through her eyes. He saw what others could not: a girl, longing for something protective, but not persuasive. Alpha instinct bloomed in his chest at the sight of her. He never wanted it to ebb away. 

“I thought I was supposed to meet you at the bakery.” Her voice teased him through a blatant accusation. “Are you that eager to see me?” 

“What kind of gentleman would I be, makin’ you walk any extra steps and risk ruining your pretty shoes.” She saw the playfulness in his eyes, but knew a small piece of that statement was true. If any other man had said that to her, they’d be kneeling on the damp ground with a grimace. She didn’t need to be babied, nor did she want it. 

With Alfie, it was just different. 

Evenly shrugged. “It’s okay, I would have just made you buy me a new pair. The bread business has been doing good this year, I’m sure you could afford it.”

His hand ran through his beard in a clear attempt to hide his smirk. “As long as I can help you try them on.” 

“No promises.” 

Alfie offered his hand and helped her up into the car. His fingers lingered a touch longer than socially acceptable, and Evelyn savored every second of it. 

As he shut her door and walked around to the driver’s side, she got the chance to admire the luxurious interior. She’d been in the back of a copper’s vehicle, multiple times. This was her first go-round in the front. A taste of the wealthy she had looked down on yet secretly yearned for. Her hands ran across the soft, worn leather with a smile. 

“Nice, yeah? Got this one a few months ago. She was a pricey thing, but more than fuckin’ worth it. Drives like it’s floatin’ over water.” Alfie’s voice brought her back to reality. Evelyn hadn’t realized her companion had opened the door and slipped in until she felt the heat emanating off his muscular shoulders, even through his jacket. “I can’t say I’ve ever had someone like you sittin’ next to me.” Alfie made the seemingly open space look cramped. Luckily her size fit comfortably without having to maneuver her legs much. 

“Someone like me? I surely hope you’re not referring to my status as a woman with a cunt.” The words cut sharp but her tone removed all animosity. 

“Crass little thing, you are. For your information, I was referrin’ to your beauty.” 

“That’s not true. I’m sure you look in the mirror and think you’re the prettiest in the room.” She smiled in jest, eyes trained towards the vacant road. 

“Is your goal to bust my fuckin’ balls any time I give you a compliment.” 

“No, just some of the time. You’re fun to tease.” 

“You’ll be sorry to say that later.”

“We’ll see.” She loved this, the banter between them. Life is much too serious to go without it. Alfie shook his head, already feeling his mood lightening. A few seconds of silence passed while Alfie closed his door. She hesitantly opened her mouth again. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, pausing his hands from starting the engine. 

“The compliment.”

“Just speakin’ the truth. Especially when the rich pricks at the races try to wine and dine you later on.” While he wanted those words to be in jest, he knew it to be true. 

Evelyn shrugged, unaware of Alfie’s concern. “I’ll have you to look out for me.” 

“You will. That don’ stop their eyes from wanderin’ though.”

“I can’t just rip them out with a spoon? Maybe I can feed their eyes to the posh mothers who think their baby boys rule society with their fake investments and wicked concubines.” 

Alfie shot her an unrelenting stare before loudly laughing. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“Better than being another sheep in the herd.”

“That it is, luv.” 

He turned on the engine, sending a jolt of vibrations into her core that she hadn’t prepared for. She unintentionally let out a quiet “oh” that sounded more pleasurable than surprised. That, in addition to the close proximity of her current infatuation, made for a very squirmy reaction. 

Evelyn knew Alfie was looking at her. She refused to meet his eyes and instead stared through the front. If she didn’t acknowledge it, then it didn’t happen, right? 

Alfie pulled the car from the curb, weaving through the disappearing fog and down the streets leading towards the city outskirts. The silence was heavy, but not uncomfortable. The ever present tension hung around them like a summer breeze. 

“Is it a long drive?” Evelyn asked, breaking the hard silence with a soft voice. 

“Long enough,” he replied. The air began to clear of industry smog as the green pastures finally came into view. “Rich folks love to be seen in the country. Makes them look more down to earth, even though their hands never touch the fuckin’ ground to begin with.” 

“No work, all play,” Evelyn muttered. She was well acquainted with the pedestal by which the upper class lived on, taking the blood and sweat of others only to turn it into gold for them. “You’re not like them.”

She watched Alfie fist the steering wheel a little tighter. “Cause I grew up from the dirt. Some people choose to forget it. But every time I look down at my rings, I can feel the fuckin’ filth beneath my fingernails.” 

The glance of self-consciousness from beneath his stone exterior caused her brows to furrow. Had she realized this was such a sensitive topic for him, she would have tread a little lighter. It disarmed her, seeing his barriers crack. “That’s certainly not a bad thing. It’s gotten you this far, hasn’t it?”

“That’s one way to look at it.” 

“It’s the only way to look at it, or else you’re so deep in your own pity that you can’t find your way out of the darkness.” 

“You always this optimistic?” 

“I didn’t used to be. The older I get, the more I realize things don’t get better until you make them. Optimism is simply the first step.” Her statement held a matter-of-fact tone, though she didn’t know if it was her her benefit or Alfie’s. Either way, he heard it. 

“I admire that,” he replied, his eyes still trained on the road. Dirt Wet from the melting snow flew from both sides of the tires leaving a thin wake of dust in their trail. “Seems stupid, though. It can get you into trouble.”

“Trust and trouble don’t always go hand in hand.”

“I’m trouble,” he said, arm raising up and onto the ledge beneath her head. His smirk seemed genuine aside from the hint of insecurity that crinkled his eyes. Her chocolate gaze latched onto his immediately. 

“Yet I still trust you. Maybe you're an exception.” Evelyn’s voice rang with a truth that both scared and thrilled Alfie to his core. Her eyes shone with the sparkling sun and a smile that could blind a thousand men with one glance. Wisps of dark hair flew around her face like an ocean of wheat stalk waving in the breeze. 

She was beautiful. 

And he was in way over his head. 

Evelyn shifted in her seat, looking out towards the hills blanketed with thin layers of snow and filled with cattle and horses that ran with the wind. She was enamored by the feeling of freedom that always seemed too far out of her grasp. The open air smelt of winter frost that was nearly melted by the high sun at this point in the day. When she was a child, she begged her mother time and time again to take a day trip to the country and have a picnic. It seems as though she finally got her chance. 

Trees hung over the road and created a canopy of withered leaves and shaded vines. She had almost forgotten how clear the air could be without the smoke pollution and increasing number of automobiles lining the streets. Living in the city felt like living in a bubble filled with cigarette smoke. Alfie was a pin, tapping the surface of her small world and bursting into it with fresh air and new perspectives. 

Every so often, Alfie felt his gaze shift to Evelyn’s face as her eyes flickered across the landscape around them. The light from the sun filtered through her long lashes, casting shadows across her cheekbones like a baby bird lifting its wings. 

His days were filled with such monotonous darkness, made even darker by the violent means of his business. He thought nothing could possibly surprise him. Yet here she sat, the personification of a humanity so different from his own. Mutters of wonder bounced from her lips and through the breeze hoping to find their way into someone's deserving ears. Ever so slowly, he watched her carefully constructed walls fall brick by brick, revealing the soul of a little girl that grew up faster than she should have. 

He didn’t realize his own walls were tumbling even further than hers. 

Alfie pulled off the main road and onto a thin trail heavy with gravel that pinged off the inside of the tires. The car bobbed with the uneven ground causing Evelyn’s body to slide over to Alfie’s as he held onto the wheel with a firm grip. She scanned the surrounding area for any signs of human life, but the farther the road went, the more she realized this was not the way to the races. 

“Where are we going?” she asked with the slightest hint of hesitation in her tone. She trusted Alfie, whether she wanted to or not, but that didn’t mean she would blindly follow him into an uninhabited field with nothing but a small knife to defend herself. 

He didn’t spare her a glance, keeping his eyes facing front. “Just a quick stop on the way.” He didn’t seem bothered, so obviously this had been in the plans. That didn’t make Evelyn feel any better. 

“In the middle of nowhere? If I didn’t know any better, you’re about to shove a bullet in my throat and bury me in a field.” Her words were joking, but only enough to quell the need to jump out the car and run to the nearest person. 

“Is your imagination always this fuckin’ wild?” Alfie looked at her like she’s magically grown another tit while he wasn’t paying attention. She scoffed, lifting her thighs to see better out her window. Alfie’s arm immediately shot out in front of her and put pressure on her lap, forcing her back down. “Sit your arse down until the car stops or I’ll be peelin’ your face from the metal!” 

She rolled her eyes, sitting deeper into the bucket seat and placing her hands back on her lap. “Alright, alright,” she muttered, more to herself than to Alfie.

“Roll those eyes at me again, sweetheart. I dare you.” 

Without thinking, a reflexed sorry, Sir ran from her lips before she could drag it back, her face blushing a light sheen of pink that reminded him of the countryside sunsets that inspire the most renowned of painters.

Alfie’s jaw clenched, showing a tiny slip of unrestrained attraction that represented a sea of dire longing for her body to be writhing beneath his own. He could only imagine those two words being chanted like a prayer as he drove into her sweet cunt until he bottomed out. She had no idea what those two words meant to him. 

Did she?

Evelyn hadn’t experienced the gratification of higher education, but she definitely noticed subtle signs of human interactions. In Alfie’s case, she wasn’t sure if he was truly angry at her, or if the emotion was self-targeted. Either way, the vision of his veins thrumming beneath the surface of his forearms stirred her craving for him. 

He promptly stopped the car, leaning his head against the hard surface of the steering wheel to gain his bearings back. He needed to keep control of the situation. 

Control. 

“Righ’ then,” he said, shoving in the door open and lifting himself out. “We’ll be here for a bit.“ He took long strides to the opposite side of the car and assisted Evelyn as she hopped to the ground. Her heels sunk into a soft spot of mud in the road making a wet squelching sound as she suctioned it out. She didn’t give it a second thought, except to remind Alfie that he owed her a new pair. Surely he would oblige. 

Her legs brought her to the feathery blades of grass at the edge of a large field, damp from snow. In the distance she could see cheap wooden fences that contained a small herd of cattle. “Here?” she asked, walking further into the pasture. “There’s nothing here.”

“Exactly,” he said, brandishing a pistol from his pocket. 

She jumped, created a larger distance between the two. “What the hell, Alfie?” Her voice rang out, catching the attention of some cows grazing and making them drift away from the couple. Her heart thrummed in her chest. 

“I’m flattered, but I don’t need to threaten you just to get you under me. That’s something you beg for.”

“You don’t need to be a bastard about it. Point it away from me!” Her hands went up to block her face, like the bullet would simply bounce off the supple skin and leave her unharmed. 

Alfie took the gun and carefully flipped it, making sure the handle was facing towards Evelyn. She eyed it wearily, dropping her hands and digging them into her sides. She’d had many encounters with weapons like this, but the only one she’d ever had to use was the small pocket knife currently attached to her garter. 

“I will protect you, righ. I will, luv. You can trust me to do that. But I’d feel a helluva lot safer knowin’ you had somethin’ else to help you out of trouble. You know, on the off chance that I cannot be there.” Walking towards her with careful steps, he gently removed her arm from her side, running his hand from her elbows to her fingertips. The motion eased her tense muscles enough for Alfie to unclench her fist and open her palm. The skin on skin contact distracted Evelyn from the cold metal that stung her hand like eyes walking from a dark room to the light outdoors. 

“I’ve never used one of these before.” Her voice came out small, no longer hiding beneath the strong bravado and blunt sarcasm. She looked at the piece of metal with trepidation. It didn’t necessarily look that dangerous. The black welding sloped into smooth curves that beckoned her hand to graze upon the surface. She knew, though, that this little thing could turn a grown man into a pile of skin and bones choking on his own blood. It was small, but lethal. 

Like her, some could argue. 

Alfie simply nodded. “I thought as much.” His tone harbored no judgement nor condescension. He let the words sit with her, observing her fingers twitching for something to hold onto. He almost volunteered his. 

“I don’t know how.” She searched his features for some kind of reaction, but merely found acceptance. Possibly even a twinge of excitement on his part.

“That’s alrigh’ luv, I can teach you,” he replied with a soft smile most wouldn’t believe coming from someone so hardened. 

“I don’t even know what I’m going up against.”

“If all ends well, hopefully fuckin’ nothing, yeah? I wouldn’ put you in harms way without knowin’ you can handle yourself.” 

“I can.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

“So tell me. The plan, I want to know the plan.” 

“It’s quite simple, sweetheart. I need you to distract an easily distractible man.” That’s it? Evelyn wasn’t expecting a gunfight or rushing battalion but she certainly hoped for more than just becoming a distraction. 

“What exactly am I distracting him with, my womanly guiles?” 

Alfie barked out a laugh. “No guiles needed. I imagine just walkin’ through the door with those hips of yours swayin’ from side to side is more than enough. I could send you to that tent with a burlap fuckin’ sack over your head and men would be beggin’ to buy you a drink. Which brings me to rule number one: no drinking. I need you ready for anything. When you’re drunk, the only think you’re ready for is the next round.” 

“I don’t drink much to begin with.”

“That’s good. Admirable, even.”

“Do you drink much?”

“Like a fuckin’ fish.” Her eyebrow perched as she bore into him with a look of annoyance, to which he just shrugged off. “You do realize what business I’m in, righ’?”

“Yes, I’m well aware Mr. Solomons.”

“It’s my duty as a businessman to test my products. Can’t be sendin’ pure shite overseas and hope they order more.” 

The girl couldn’t help herself, having a instinctual reaction to roll her eyes so far back into her head, the whites were visible. 

Fuckin’ brat, Alfie thought with a smirk that could combust a pair of knickers beneath the robes of a nun.   
“What’d I say about those fuckin’ eyes? That’s two strikes today, little one. Don’ let me catch you doin’ that again.”

Evelyn felt a rush of warmth heat her cheeks, both high and low. Her body bristled with the lingering vibrations of his commanding tone that swept through her nerves and set them on fire. “What will you do, put me over your knee?” She intended her question to sound firm, yet her voice trembled in sync with her weakening knees. 

Heavy steps crunched against the fallen leaves and melting snow in purposeful steps as Alfie stalked forward until he stood in front of Evelyn, leaving only an inch or two of space between them. Her unwavering stare stayed eye level with his broad chest. Whether out of defiance or nervousness, she wouldn’t admit. Her breath hitched being in such close proximity to him. He could practically hear Evelyn’s pulse beating against her neck and chest. “You won’ be able to sit correctly for a fuckin’ week.”

A wave of weightlessness fluttered through her bones, forcing an almost silent whimper from her throat. Alfie’s knees bent just enough to make up for the near foot of height difference between the two. She felt his hot breath puff across her forehead like an endless August day, feeding into her primal desires. He registered the emotions as soon as their eyes met.

He had the same ones. 

“Is that something you’d like, sweetheart?” His hand picked up curl that had fallen from beneath her ear, tucking it back into its proper place. A knowing smile reached across his features with a gentleness she hadn’t seen from him before. She felt like one of those china dolls she had begged her mom for as a child, yet never got. 

Is this what it feels like to be wanted? 

Without even dwelling on it, Evelyn’s head slowly nodded, almost undetectably so, like she was trying to convince herself more than Alfie. Her mother never disciplined her as a child. It was never necessary. Evelyn behaved as well as a street kid possibly could. She followed her mother’s rules, which were slightly different from the rules laid out by the land. 

With this in mind, she had absolutely no clue why the thought of Alfie’s hand upon her plump bottom made her thighs squeeze together like two hands pressuring fresh juice from a lemon. Surely she didn’t want to be hurt, right? 

While the thoughts were bouncing off every possible brain cell in her head, Alfie became stuck in his own. He marveled at the petite girl in front of him. She can go from a bollock-busting firecracker to a submissive little thing in the snap of a finger. His finger, to be exact. 

The butt of the gun grazed against her fingers with a shock to the system. Evelyn shook herself from her Alfie-induced stupor and refocused her eyes. 

“Let’s get back to the task at hand,” Evelyn said, her voice starting shaky before leveling out. The red in her cheeks began to fade even though a small patch of pink lingered on her skin like a paling sunrise. 

“You’re all about business, aren’ you?” His soft teasing made her giggle. He was transfixed by her, his stare never leaving her face for fear he’d miss a single second of her smile. She grew nervous under his gaze. 

“Alfie…” Evelyn grabbed the gun from his lax grasp and turned around. Maybe if she couldn’t see him, she could focus more. That sounded reasonable. “The longer you keep me here, the more of a window we miss to make our move, though I barely know our exact purpose being there.” 

“Does everyone get under your skin this easily?”

“Just you, Sir,” she drawled over her shoulder. The rays from the sun glided across her hair and reflected a yellow glow. “Now tell me who our mark is, how to use this god-awful thing and- Alfie, stop looking at me like I’m your last fuckin’ meal before your execution!” She initially wanted to come off as annoyed but she secretly revelled beneath his darkening eyes. She wished her problems would melt beneath the heat of his stare. At the very least, they could stay like that forever.

“Blame yourself. I can’ help it.” 

“Do you flatter all the women you work with? Or am I just the lucky one.” 

“‘Course not,” he said, waving off the claim with a sly smile. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever worked with.” 

If she knew how to use the gun, she would have shot him. 

“Come ’ere.” He motioned towards her with gentle, calloused hands. “It’s easier than it looks.”

“I highly doubt that.” She placed the gun in his hands again. The metal coating was warm with the heat from her skin. Alfie’s hands gripped her shoulders and spun her around so his front was snug into her back. It was like penance, feeling every curve of her waist yet not being able to touch. His chin nearly rested atop her head. 

With his hands eased over hers, Alfie positioned the grip of the gun into Evelyn’s hands. Covering her fingers with his own, he raised the weapon to her eye-level. “Now the trick is to treat her carefully.”

“Her?”

“Yes, her. With that smooth skin and glorious curves, it would be a shame to not address her properly. So, shut it and listen, luv. You’ve got to treat her well. Don’t grip her too hard or she’ll feel constricted and backfire into that pretty little nose of yours.” 

Evelyn unknowingly dipped her back further into Alfie’s silhouette, seeking the comfort of his overbearing stature. She couldn’t control the way her body sidled up to his like they were seeking warmth in an abandoned tundra, even though the winter chill provided relief from the blaze of desire beneath her skin. How could she think straight, let alone aim a gun, when they stood so intimately against each other? 

“Do you have to be right behind me?” she asked, attempting to conceal her breathlessness with fake annoyance. 

“Do you have to open that fuckin’ mouth all the time?” he retorted. 

“What on earth would keep you this entertained?” She turned her head to make sure he would hear the words, only for him to nudge her back. 

“Raise your arms like this,” he muttered low into her ear as his hands slid to her elbows and guided them up. She pointed the muzzle of the gun. The shakiness of her grip betrayed the cool confidence she desperately wanted to exude. The faint smell of nicotine wandered into her nose, filling her head with a cloud of sensual appetite the only Alfie could satisfy. 

“It’s heavy.” 

“You’ll get used to it. Just means we’ll have to practice every week.” 

Evelyn’s arms tired within seconds of holding the dense metal at eye-level, grateful for Alfie bearing a majority of the weight. A gust of wind rushed from beneath the snowy hills of the field forcing them to close their eyes. He could feel goosebumps rise on the exposed skin of her hands and tried to cover every inch with the heat of his own. Even when the air went flat, Evelyn kept her eyes closed. Blinded to one sense, she unconsciously focused on the weapon sitting snug between her fingers. The cold seeped through her bones. She felt like her skin had molded to the metal, a jolt of voltaic electricity stirred in her center and passed through her bloodstream like a winding river. 

“You feel that?” Aflie asked, his eyes not moving from where her fingers tensed on the pistol. He knew that feeling, the horror-filled thrill of holding a deadly weapon paired with the moral turmoil of right and wrong. It’s like imagining a small, innocent child with a butcher's knife: you want to stop it, but you’re also filled with a needy curiosity to know what circumstances would create such an environment in the first place. 

“Yeah,” she replied, eyes opened and squinting at the rays of sun emerging from behind an errant cloud. She wasn’t sure how to feel.

Alfie nodded gruffly, though she couldn’t see with her eyes still trained on the gun. “Look over there,” he said while pointing to a large oak in the distance. The branches were heavy with the snow piled neatly on top. Like a typical mother, the oak bore the weight with elegance. Another gust of wind ran across the field. Something hung from a tired branch, only noticeable when it began swinging from the static tree. 

“What is that?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him. Alfie lifted the gun and pointed at the hanging object before dragging back the hammer and pulling the trigger. Not being prepared for the strength of the kickback, she nearly jumped out of her skin when the sound penetrated her ears. He boxed her into his arms and held her tight to make sure she wouldn’t jump back. 

“Target practice,” he said, the smoke of the gun distinctly trailing from the tip in the chilly air. 

“Bloody hell, give a girl a warning first!” Adrenaline charged beneath her skin and sent her heart rate skyrocketing. Alfie chuckled causing Evelyn to deepen her scowl. “Fuckin’ shock me into death, why don’t you?” 

His hands released from her slowly, pulling back the gun and slipping it into his own waistband. She immediately missed the heat from his body once the cold sunk back into her skin. 

Evelyn watched the hanging object swing, identifying it as a long tree branch tied in the middle with thick, woven rope. It was obvious to her that his “target practice” was quite worn by time and weather. She could only imagine the surface riddled with bullets and slashes. She turned her head towards Alfie, who was busy counting the loose bullets in his pocket before dropping them back in. “How did you know about this place?” she asked, clutching her jacket a little closer. 

He looked around at the scenery, already memorized to heart. “I used to come out here as a boy. It’s where I learned to shoot.” He knew every rock, blade of grass and speck of fucking sand that made up his childhood escape. 

“Oh,” she replied with surprise evident in her tone. “I didn’t realize.” Evelyn felt a little guilty. She’d been flinging complaints since stepping out of the car when he was sharing a piece of his boyhood with her. She didn’t know why but her nerves prevented her from asking. They weren’t that close, merely business associates with a plethora of sexual tension that hung over them like the rainy season in the tropics. That didn’t stop the faint smile from touching her dimples. He had cracked the door open to his past, just for her. She wasn’t going to force herself in, though she knew over time that the opening would only get bigger. 

Her attention was drawn to the pistol now poking out from beneath his waistband. Her brow scrunched together in curiosity. “Aren’t you going to teach me how to shoot? Was that not the point of us coming out here?” 

“Not today, luv. We’re going to be late.” 

Now she was even more confused. Her mouth opened, then closed, and opened again. “Then why show me the gun at all?”

“You’ll be surrounded by them today. I wanted to make sure you knew what they looked like, so you wouldn’ faint at the sight of one. I have a smaller one in the car for you to carry.” His smirk crossed his face and lit up his hazel eyes. A hand waved her forward and they began their short trek through the melting snow and to the vehicle. 

“But what good is carrying it if I don’t know how to shoot.” She reminded Alfie of a child desperate for a piece of decadent chocolate. 

“Another day. You have my word. I don’t want you knowing how to use a gun today, cause I know you’ll actually use it. We need to keep it quiet. Too much attention is bad for business.” 

“What happens if something goes wrong?”

“It won’.”

“Alfie-” Suddenly she was pulled back by his fingers wrapped around her wrist. Her stood before her, the unrelenting mafia man preparing for battle. He grabbed her by the shoulders and brought his face eye level to hers. The intensity radiated off his figure. She looked to the ground, not having the willpower to remain on him. 

“Oy, look at me.” Her gaze snapped back up at his command. “It won’t. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You’ll have a gun to wave around, and I know you well enough to guess that there’s a sharp blade somewhere beneath all that clothing.” A baby blush rose across her cheeks. The idea of Alfie thinking about her without any material hiding her figure… made her skin heat. “Plus, I like havin’ you around too much so I’m not plannin’ on gettin’ rid of you yet.” She didn’t know what she was looking for in his features, but she saw nothing but truthfulness seep from his mouth. 

Evelyn nodded. “If anything happens to me-”

“My balls are yours to do whatever the fuck you want to.” 

The corner of her mouth quirked up in a half smile. He wished it waa the full one, but he’d take it for now. “Fine.”

“Good.” Alfie released her from his grasp and clapped his hands together. Gone was the commander of Camden Town, replaced by the too-excited man nearly hopping in front of her. “Now get your arse in. The races await.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay or nay? I didn’t intend this to be a slow burn so expect some ~action~ in the next chapter. As always THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE. All your comments and kudos put me on cloud nine. If you guys have any suggestions for scenes or burning desires to see Alfie and Evie in certain situations, comment cause I’m always game for ideas. THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS!

**Author's Note:**

> I know, no Alfie in this chapter. But you’ll see him very soon!


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